Legacy of Hate
by glittergoddess13
Summary: The boys discover one of them is not John's and it shatters their world. Past and present story lines. A bit of what ifs on my part. Limp Dean! angst for John, Dean, Sam, Bobby. Fights. Brother love. Limp Dean! ANGST AND LOTS OF PAIN.
1. Truth in the Blood

**_Legacy of Hate_**

_Raised by you, You made me. In your shadow"-_ Legacy of Hate by Fight

**Philadelphia 1999**

Sixteen-year-old Sam paced the sterile white hallways, glancing between the close operating room doors and the emergency room exit to the outside world. In truth he only glanced at the exit out of courtesy, but his primary concern was for his brother, who was an hour in surgery already, and not whether John and Bobby received the message Dean had been seriously hurt. At the moment, only the striking odor of disinfectant and the annoyance of the solid wood doors with no opening for him to peer inside kept him on his feet.

The battle had been tougher than either brother thought and he had never seen Dean covered in so much blood. Sam damned his failing of realizing how bad a true Gremlin would be- beyond vicious and feral.

Wishing the monster to be like the ones from the movie, Sam would have preferred the short and cute versions in comparison to the real thing. But, Sam didn't really care about the practices of this demon, this creature, or that. The Gremlin was dead now and Dean might be next in line for that fate.

Whirls of what it would feel like without Dean began, but when a nurse burst from the doors, they stopped. Sam resisted the urge to ramble a million questions, while he gravitated towards the woman. She was obviously tired, but her plump face shone sweetly, like the stereotypical image of a grandmother who bakes pies. Her eyes were kind as she asked for the family of a patient. "Winchester?"

"HERE!" Sam said, almost standing next to her now. "My brother is he..."

"He's holding in there. We gave him a blood transfusion, but the doctor has ordered more. There is a bleeder in his abdomen that we can't find yet. The doctor is repairing the damage as quick as we can. I'll update you again when I can. "

"OH GOD! He has to be okay! I need to help, let me talk to him."

"Why don't you go downstairs and donate blood. He has a rare blood type and he may need more soon. You might be a match for him given that your siblings"

"Yeah... uh…yeah…" He said on autopilot, staring at the closed doors that blocked his view of Dean.

"If anything happens, I'll find you. My name's Kat. You can ask for me. Your brother is in great hands. Dr. Marcus is the best surgeon on staff and our patient is quite the fighter. Go on. You will do yourself good to take a break. This is going to take a while.

-x-x-xx-x-x-xx

**An hour later...**

The sticky piece of medical tape hissed from the hundredth pull off Sam's flesh. Just as quickly he pushed the tape back over the cotton ball at his elbow and yanked again. Kat had visited him a few times, but for the last half hour, he was alone. Staring down at the bandage from his blood donation, he still waited for John and Bobby and news about Dean.

Finally, Kat came from the room with a doctor closely following her footsteps. "Sam, this is Dr. Marcus."

"Dean?" He said in a way that had a please don't let this be FINAL news.

"He's going to make it. A bit worse for the wear and pain, but he pulled through. We gave him four pints of blood and will get him on massive pain killers when he comes round in recovery."

"Thanks Doc!"

"You're welcome. Kat will get you set up and take care of getting a room for him. If you have any questions, I'll be on call for at least a few more hours." Dr. Marcus shook Sam's hand and turned his attention to the next patient that awaited him in the ER.

"Once he is more stable, we'll get him a room. I'll let you know when and where, so you can be there. Breathe, Sam. He's going to be fine.

Sam sighed. "Guess you were right about the donation. Dean needed it after all."

A frown drew on Kat's face. "It was wonderful you gave blood, but you should have told me you had such different blood types. Stepbrothers or adoption?"

"What? No, you're mistaken. Dean and I are full brothers."

She blushed feeling sheepish, awkward, and regretful. "Oh Dear. I'm so sorry. You didn't know did you? I hated to be the one to break it to you. "

"BREAK WHAT? It's a mistake."

"I'm afraid it's not. You can't be full brothers. You may share one parent but not two. You blood types show that is impossible. You can have a different mother or father. I'm so sorry I didn't know you weren't aware. Please forgiv…"

"It's okay." Quietly he added "You're wrong… Dean's my real brother."

"Of course." She smiled, thinking blood didn't make them less family. "I'll get you soon. He's fine and will need to rest for a few days. Take care." She added and exited feeling ashamed she had to tell the young man something so shocking after this night.

"SAM!!" He heard his father's voice, but not the way John had just banged and stomped through the door. "Sam?" He asked in a smaller voice.

"Uh... sorry sir." Sam said absently.

"Boy, you better sit down before you fall down," Bobby suggested.

"No, I'm okay. Really. He pulled through." Sam took a deep breath. "We can see him once he is settled in."

"What happened!?" John demanded. "How bad were the injuries? When…"

"We can cover that later," Bobby prompted. "Let's just wait to see Dean. Plenty of time for stories later..." Bobby lowered his voice. "….when we are in a less public place. John, you want to grab us some coffee. I think we all could use some high octane."

"You're right. I…." John admitted as worry etched over his face when he thought of Dean. "Sorry, Sam."

"It's fine. I'm worried too."

"Be right back with those Joes," John said as he spotted the sign with directional arrows to the vending machines.

"So, you sitting or what?" Bobby offered humorously.

"Bobby?" Sam said deadpan.

"What's wrong!?"

"The nurse said something… It can't be true, but Dean and I…"

"Thought you said he was going to be okay?"

"He is. She said there's no way Dean and I come from the same parents. We are full brothers… and I…what if…"

"Whatcha talking about" Bobby announced boisterously. "You two are like Frick N Frack. A pair of numbskulls."

"I'm serious. Do you think…. I mean I gave blood…..And she said our blood types prove it is not even a possibility that we share the same parents. Am I Dad's? Dean? Do you think he would lie to us about that? I mean Mom was…"

"One thing I know- you and Dean both were born from Mary. John has 2 sons. So you tell me. Nothing will change that. I'm sure it was some mix up and you don't need to worry. Let's get Dean well and sort out some random blood test later. Dean needs you right now, so doubt isn't an option. You'll need to watch over him a bit when you get back on the road."

"You're right. I'm sure Dean belongs to Dad. He is a fighter like him, so he has to be related."

"And you got John's hard head!"

"Sometimes," Sam admitted.

"Most times," Bobby countered.

-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-xx—x

**Later in Dean's hospital room…**

With his head jutted back against the wall, Sam slept in the chair next to Dean's hospital bed. While John and Bobby opted for the foot of the bed, both hunters knew it was only fitting to give Sam that place of honor tonight. Dean snored softly, garnering the attention from the seasoned hunter, who shifted uncomfortably in side chairs.

"Hmmph" John mused. "It's always strange and nice to see them so calm. Kinda a moment of perfection."

"Not too long. Sam found out something today." Bobby's tone was somber and grim.

"Don't be so cryptic. I'm sure it's not that serious."

"He knows he and Dean can't be full blood brothers. Stupid ass blood donation he gave!"

"Did you tell him?"

"No, but I wanted to. I covered for you, but you need to tell those boys the truth. Tell them about the real father of…"

"They belong to me… Both since they were born. Since I held them…loved them. That's the truth."

"Don't mince words with me. You know I'm not trying to take away your mantle of fatherhood, but your blood doesn't course thorough both veins. Let them hear it from you."

"One day... maybe… just not now…When they're older."

"Sam's sixteen. Dean's twenty. I think they were official grown."

"They're my boys forever. That's all. My Dean. My Sam. Nothing will ever change that."

**Oo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0oOo0o**

**Author's note: Hope you enjoy this bit of fic that would never happen on the show. Just an idea that floated in my head for some time. Please review even if you hate the idea. As alway, thank you! Thank you! Winchesters ROCK!**


	2. Things I didn't want to know

_**Author's note: Okay to those that sent me private messages: Nope, this is not a spoiler as I never read them. As far as I know the show has no plans to do this and I don't think they ever will. This is just a random alternate universe kinda deal. So I am sorry if I made anyone panic. Dean and Sam will now comfort you. This is just an idea I am toying with to see if I can actually get an accurate account of how Sam and Dean would react to such news. Again thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. Love you all!**_

_**-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**_

**Walking madly - feeling strangely and I'm not sure where to go  
I got a funny feeling - Have I lost my meaning  
I wish I could go home  
When you said you were leaving I didn't let it affect me  
Sat on the bar and let them flow  
Now I'm lost and lonely  
I wish you never told me what I didn't want to know**

**--Why by Crossfade**

**Present Day- July….**

As he cut the engine, Dean cursed the sheeting rain on the Impala's windshield. "Just great! You happy now?"

A grimace attacked Sam's lips, revealing his dissatisfaction with the circumstances too. Three seconds later, both Winchesters made a run for it as deluge or rain poured down on them and Little Rock's Finest Storage Units in all of Arkansas, or so the sign read. Sam shielded his head with yesterday's newspaper and carried a six pack of beer in his free hand as Dean pried open the lock.

When the tumblers clicked open, Dean yanked up the garage like door and they snaked inside. Sam tossed his rain shield aside and set down the beer on one of the many boxes. He fumbled with the light switch, while Dean closed the portal, blocking the rain.

Sam crossed his arm over his chest, watching in amusement as Dean shook off some water until he got splashed. "Watch it, Rin Tin Tin."

"Whoa! Sam made a funny. I'm impressed." The sardonic tone over evident rang in Dean's voice.

Sam grabbed one of the beers, unscrewed the cap, handed it to Dean, and did the same for himself. He took a swig before he spoke. "Okay, should we take the grand tour?" He slicked his hair away from his face.

"Might as well. But your idea is still farfetched if you ask me. Talisman's a key to breaking my deal…you know that..."

"No arguments. Humor me."

Shrugging Dean began digging around in the numerous boxes in another one of John's storage containers. He finished his beer in no time as he searched for Sam's item. It wasn't long before he found something interesting, even if it wasn't quite what Sam had in mind. "Hey, check this out. Sam Winchester- Golden Star Award Math Wizard" Dean chuckled as he held a coffee stained certificate from Sam's fourth grade math competition.

"Hey, check this out. Ten… no wait... fifteen... Dean Winchester detention slips." Sam countered.

"Those are a matter of pride. At least I got some action in return for those… whew... Katie Sue Holcomb… the tongue on that girl…"

"AHHA... stop… that's a mental image I don't need." Sam cringed exaggeratedly."

"Jealous! You would brag about Katie Sue."

Sam gave Dean the most ridiculous of stares and scoffed. "Everyone HAD Katie Sue."

"Except you!" Dean retorted. "You had Math on the brain, while she was sharing the goodies with the whole school. You need to work on your priorities. Dude, I swear you got the leftovers in the gene pool."

"Funny… really hilarious…Just keep looking around, that talisman has to be in here." Sam offered.

"Or not. I mean this is the third storage we have found that Dad kept- that we know of… Who knows how many of these he had."

"Kinda wish he clued us in on tons of things. Guarded information like he had the Holy Grail or something." Sam smiled.

"Probably only the Monty Python version." Dean beamed "Hey, Sam… I fart in your general direction!"

"Please, don't start. This is bad enough!" Yet, Sam laughed.

"Arrgg!" Dean groaned tossing the box he had searched to the side. "Okay break time! Union Rules!" He announced, grabbing another beer from the pack. "This is hopeless."

"Who knew that Dad was such a pack rat?"

"Yeah, well, in any case, if we find any classic porn from the 70's, I'm calling dibs!" He pushed himself against a box, his body already sweating in the confined space.

Blowing out a sigh, Sam sat on a larger box and dug in the next container. "Uh-oh," he said. "What is it this time?"

"I think it's Spam…" Sam groaned.

"It's not Spam, is it?" Dean perked up and looked cautiously at Sam.

When Sam shook the dated rectangle can, he made a face, followed by a fake gagging sound.

Before Dean spoke, he sucked in a breath and held it while he thought. "Don't open that. For the Love of Katie Sue, don't open that. Spam- Dad's secret weapon."

"I'd crumble." Sam soon realized he left the door wide open for Dean to add a sarcastic comment, so he spoke quicker. "And no comment from you."

Dean smiled, thinking of a million things to say, but only laughed. He tossed his now empty beer bottle in a box and began shifting until he found a packet of papers and pictures. "Hey, take a look at this…it's Mom and Dad when they bought the house in Lawrence." Dean chuckled seeing his parents so happy holding up the sold sign in front of that house.

Then he found a picture of Mary, who held a tiny baby in her arms. A huge smile splashed her face, the kind his father always called the pirate smile. A banner that said Welcome home Dean hung above both of them. He traced a line across her face before he flipped to the next item in the stack. Random bits of life before the demonic tragedy in their lives were in his grasp: Bank statements, random notes, purchase orders from John's garage, faded papers so far gone you couldn't tell what they were now. Yet, Dean felt his heart swell and tried to keep his face stoic. Then he laughed aloud and scoffed, finding Sam's birth certificate. "Well crap. Guess I was wrong."

"Do I dare ask?"

"You were born after all. Dad always said they got you from the alligator man and the bearded lady at the circus."

"Right after they adopted you from the Elvis Impersonator and RuPaul." Sam countered.

The light air of amusement played in their voices. "Nope… here's mine. You're outta…" Dean stopped, puzzled.

"What?" Sam asked innocently, but continued a bit more concerned when he noticed Dean's expression. "What is it?"

"Uh…. Just...weird. There's two birth certificates for me… totally different."

"Huh? Let me see." Dean handed the two papers over and waited for Sam's inspection and explanation.

"These are…"

"…Strange!"

"Makes no sense…. This one has your correct birthday with Mom and Dad listed and this one only has Mom and is three months earlier. Must be some weird clerical error Mom and Dad fixed."

"Who knows could be a scam Dad ran at one point."

"That is more than possible-- 99.99 possible."

"Math Geek!"

Sam shrugged, tossing the papers down and searching into the next box. Dean laughed triumphantly, cracked another beer and went back to nosing into the past. After several minutes, Sam glanced back at Dean, who had grown quiet. "What now!" He said a bit harsher than he intended.

Dean only paled more. "Sammy…oh my god…it's…."

"Did you find the 70's porn?" He said playfully knowing Dean's expression was bad news, but just maybe he could soften the blow he was about to receive.

Yet, Dean didn't speak. He just peered down at the black and white photocopy of a police report.

Sam approached, noticing the header of the Kansas State PD at the top. "It's from the night of the fire, isn't it?" Sam's spirit sank a bit. "Mom would want us to…"

"It's not the fire." Dean said blankly.

The younger Winchester let out a relieved breath. "Dad get arrested for…"

"No." The flat tone in Dean's voice was evidence of numb shock. "I need air…" With that Dean dropped the half empty beer bottle on the floor and the sheet before he yanked open the exit and dashed back out into the rain.

"Dean!?" Sam yelled, watching his brother run towards the car, stop at the driver's door, and slide down the side panel. He collapsed with his head against the door.

The rain muted Sam's view, but he knew this couldn't be good. He resisted the urge to sprint after Dean, but his fingers couldn't resist picking up the soaked paper from the glass shards and beer puddle. As he read he didn't find the "big deal" that could cause such a reaction in Dean until the middle of this report. The report was given by their mother and the allegation made caused his throat to crush close. The only word his eyes could see now glared back at him like broadsword to his emotions. Even the way it was typed in all caps with bold screamed to him- **RAPE.**


	3. Empty

All around me are familiar faces  
Worn out places, worn out faces  
Bright and early for their daily races  
Going nowhere, going nowhere  
And their tears are filling up their glasses  
No expression, no expression  
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow  
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

**Mad World- Tears for Fears**

Sam squinted his eyes, blurring his vision as if that could change the words on the page. He came to this place expecting a miracle, but yet again found only more pain. An overflow of logical connections snapped together in his brain, reaching the same conclusion that Dean obviously had. The time frame was close- too close- and as much as Sam wanted to throw the very notion of Dean being anything but John's off the nearest cliff, drown it in the Loch Ness, and run it over with a steam roller, he couldn't get keep the spark of a memory from his teen years from surfacing. It was then he decided he would call Bobby, who would prove to Dean things were kosher and this was all some strange coincidence. "Of course," Sam muttered, giving himself several excuses in his mind that led him to the conclusion he wanted. Yet, he felt the wrongness of it.

With his mind absolved of anything but what he wanted to face, Sam dried the police report as best he could, found the two birth certificates, and folded them, shoving it in his jacket. He abandoned his searching and sprinted towards Dean, who still sat in the increasing water puddle around him. When he reached his brother, Dean appeared to be in a strange cationic state. The only movement was the way his hand rolled the Impala key's around.

When Sam pulled under Dean's arm, there was no effort. His brother simple stood because he was prompted to do it. Sam decided it was best Dean didn't drive and he doubted if he could get his brother to walk to the passenger side, so he opened the back door. "Get in... it's okay..." He promised Dean, who plopped in the backseat without protest, following the motion and direction of Sam."Keys?" Sam removed them from the hand that loosely held them without so much a grunt from Dean. Once Sam closed the back door, Dean stared out like he was blind to anything else but the thoughts in his head.

Sam hopped in driver's seat and took off, thinking they could sort this all out, but they would need time. A hotel was in order, a beer or two later this would all be a memory to laugh at. It had to be a colossal joke of some kind. Still it nagged at him. He pushed the thought aside and knew no matter how unsure he was feeling, Dean was a little better than a zombie in the backseat.

Sam pushed his lips together in concentration then opened them. "Dean?" He spoke cautiously, waiting to see if Dean would offer to talk, but not really expecting a response. As predicted there nothing. "I know what you're thinking, but it's not true. Come on, you and Dad..."

"You saw it" Dean spoke softer than any sentence he had before. A sound just below a whisper, but a hint of pleading that Sam would not verify the existence of that police report. "My dad is..."

"But it's just conjecture. I mean it's horrible that Mom went thorough that, but you and Dad... the way you worked together, the way you understood each other... Dad probably made one of those certificates to keep the neighbors from gossiping. You're Dad's... no doubt.

"Theory." Dean said flatly.

"Theory? Hell it's not a theory, it's fact." Sam said with more conviction than he believed. "Who got Dad's skill with a gun? You- Natural. I struggled with my marksmanship forever. All that came so easy for you. Don't read more into this."

"I'm not." The deadpan expression didn't change.

"Man, you're my brother. I know these things. If you need to deal with the fact Mom was raped, I understand. It floors me! But I know you. I know where you head is. You can't think like that. I need your head in this war- with me- not some impossible what if."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause...just cause...it's just the way things are... I got all my sentiment that you hate from Mom, you got Dad's snark and we both got his stubborn. You got mom's strength…It's just fact. But, if you need proof, I'll get it."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Hours later at the Rock Hard Inn…**

The uncomfortable silence void in the car continued through most of the evening. Sam had offered to get dinner three times, but Dean simply offered that he wasn't hungry yet. Sam excused himself only once to call Bobby with a cryptic message to come quickly, whispering while he hid in the bathroom.

Instead they both stared at the ultra orange room décor as if a Harley Davison threw up after a rock concert. Yet, somehow the orange blobs floating in the lava lamps brought some order to Sam's mind. He watched the way the blobs divided as they grew hotter, breaking into smaller pieces. Only when the liquid cooled did the mass become whole.

He scoffed finding his mind relating a lava lamp to their situation. Perhaps, they did need time to digest it all, but this problem wasn't as simple turning off a light in a lava lamp. As much as he wanted to ease Dean's mind, Sam didn't know what to say. When he thought the silence would drive him mad, Dean finally spoke again without a direct question from Sam.

"I'm getting a drink."

"Oh... yeah... sure... let's..." Sam began to stand.

"Alone."

"Dean." Sam's protest was evident in that one word.

"Sam." His tone equally asked his brother to back off.

"Okay, but..."

"I just need a few beers..." The words spilled out blindly. However, when he glanced at Sam, the concern plastered on his brother's face struck an emotion other than emptiness to surface. Internally, he felt like he should apologize, but he wasn't sure what he was asking forgiveness for. Instead, he offered at least a smidgen of hope to Sam. "Just need to get out of my own head. I won't go far, I promise."

With that, Sam didn't argue. He plopped back on his bed and acted like he was going to watch some TV. He let Dean go without another word for the wheels of preplanning already churned in Sam's head. Dean would get drunk at the first bar he found, get too sloshed to get back, and Sam would strike out on a recovery mission. That was the way it worked.

When the door clicked to a close and Dean was gone, he took out the three documents from his pocket examining them closer. The police report listed Mary's address as Topeka and not Lawrence. He knew finding any evidence of a case that old would be a monumental task, but he wasn't interested in solving the crime. Knowing John that had happened years ago. It was probably the reason his father had a copy of the report to begin with. The only question Sam had was where John buried that body.

Nothing looked too odd about the report, just a statement from Mary about what happened, which Sam stopped reading two sentences in from disgust. Then he looked at the time frame and counted upwards. The frame was too big. Dean's real birthday made it impossible for a violent rapist to be his father. Plus, his selfless brother could never be a product of such a monster.

Yet, there was a rub. The other birth certificate placed Dean's alternate birth date about three and a half months before and the birth place as Topeka. That time frame and location made it more than plausible for the timing to work.

"STOP IT SAM!" He yelled at himself before a steady knocked sounded on the door. He hiked from his bed.

"Sam, you okay?" He heard the comforting voice of Bobby before he even swung the door open. All he could think of is that Bobby will put his worse fear to rest. As the door cracked, a rush of cold air floated through the door with Bobby the only blockade against the wind. He braced himself against the doorframe, while rain dripped off the brim of his hat. "Hope you have a good reason for bringing me out in this soaking mess."

"I don't know really where to start."

"Letting me in would be the best way."

"Sorry, yeah... I… come in."

"So, you want to tell me what in the hell is going on."

"Dean and I found some of Dad's papers in a storage unit a few miles from here. There were two birth certificates for Dean."

"Hell, who knows what John was..."

"And a report..." Sam interrupted. "… One about Mom's rape. I've worked it all out and I don't…"

"Don't let your imagination run away with you. Last thing Dean needs is to hear…" Bobby seemed to be shaken.

"He knows..."

"Dammit. Why in the hell did you show him!"

"I didn't. He found it on his own. And I need you to tell me the truth."

"What does it matter."

"Cause Dean just died. He is walking, but dead inside. I need to make this go away. I can't ask Dad and you are the only one who might know."

"Sam, don't."

"No.. he's not.. not that.."

"Don't open this Pandora's box."

"It's already open. I can't help thinking of when Dean got hurt when I was 16. That blood test… the way you answered me…"

"Your Dad and Mom loved that boy with every fiber. That should be all that matters."

"TELL ME...What happened… is Dean…"

"You can't do this to him. We lie... do anything to spare that boy any more pain."

"Tell me it isn't true." A long pause drifted after Sam's demand.

"I can't."

"You knew all along?"

"Yeah. I asked John to tell him before…before… " Bobby paused. "… but he died and ….he always said he loved Dean too much to tell him all this. "

"You sonvabitch." Sam gave him a look of utter confusion.

"It wasn't my place." Bobby reasoned. "All that matters now is Dean. Do you think he'll benefit for thinking less of himself!? Come on!"

"You lied to me that night in Philadelphia when I thought I was going to lose him and you wait almost 10 years to fess up, but no... You don't want to… you had to be faced with evidence before..."

"Dean doesn't need us fighting. If I told you that the man you loved wasn't your father, but some monster that hurt your mother how would you feel."

The room grew quiet as the two men stared at each other. The moment of peaceful silence was broken by another voice. "So you both knew… knew all this time… You knew and you let me…" Dean's voice trailed off. The shattering secret of who he really was earned Sam and Bobby a look that could turn the sun into a ball of ice.

"Dean!" Sam said in an almost apologetic way. "How long you been there…we were just..."

"Save it!" Dean strutted inside and grabbed his wallet from the nightstand. "Just came back for this. I'm going out!" Dean announced with bitterness.

Bobby and Sam didn't have to ask what was wrong, he was acutely aware Dean's world was just shattered and splintered. Bobby remained quiet.

"Sure," Sam said. "Let's go out for a bit! This doesn't change..." Sam gravitated towards the door, blocking Dean's path.

"No! I'm going alone. Don't need liars hanging around do I! Back off, SAM!"

Probably Sam would still be standing in front of the door if Dean hadn't made for it as if he would go through his brother and the door without bothering to move either. Dean stared down at Sam, angled so Bobby couldn't see his expression. Bobby deserved no part in his feelings anymore- just another person who let him down. Sam was about to speak, but Dean stopped him with a life-ending sentence. "Shut up, Sam."

After a few seconds Sam shifted to the side. Neither of them had anything else to say-no see you or good-bye. Sam would have settled for a get out of my way or a go to hell, but all Dean did was stare with accusatory eyes.

As Sam moved, Dean glanced back at the men he thought he knew. But he guessed he knew them as well as he did himself, which was not all. Thanks to this new revelation, all he even thought he was became meaningless. Finally he spoke words filled time contemptuous bitterness. "Fuck you, both."

Sam startled. He thought the lack of words was worse, but that really stung. Dean never said fuck word unless he was really angry. And he never used it on Sam before. More than that was the way he said it. It felt like an "I'm through with you" to Sam.

When Dean strode out of the motel room, with his jaw set like he was expecting to throw some punches soon, Sam didn't say a word. He had already said everything there was to say, which was why Dean slammed the door behind him hard enough to crash an orange blob lava lamp to the floor. The only other noise was the rifle loud crack of the door as he shut it.

Then Sam really had nothing to say. He just kept picking up the shards of glass and glops of goo off the carpet. His father had betrayed both their trust and he didn't know how they would recover.

"Give him a moment, he'll be back!"

"You're a lying bastard too!"

"SAM! I wanted to tell you. It wasn't my place. Don't worry about Dean. Ol' boy's tough as whit leather. We'll take care of him."

"All I know is my brother hates me and you can get the hell out of our lives."

Sam went back to his work, aware that Bobby stood above him dumbfounded. Usually, Sam was the most forgiving of human, but not today. With a heavy and sinking heart, Bobby turned and walked out the door.


	4. Unforgiven

**Through constant pain disgrace  
The young boy learns their rules  
With time the child draws in  
This whipping boy done wrong  
Deprived of all his thoughts  
The young man struggles on and on he's known  
A vow unto his own  
That never from this day  
His will they'll take away  
What I've felt  
What I've known  
Never shined through in what I've shown  
Never be  
Never see  
Won't see what might have been  
What I've felt  
What I've known  
Never shined through in what I've shown  
Never free  
Never me**

**So I dub thee Unforgiven **

**They dedicate their lives  
To running all of his  
He tries to please them all  
This bitter man he is  
Throughout his life the same  
He's battled constantly  
This fight he cannot win  
**

**Metallica- Unforgiven**

When Dean left the crap motel, he wandered aimlessly down several blocks while thunderstorms downpoured over him. Beads rolled down his brow, but the cool sensation was a welcome change to the heated blankness and anger he felt inside. What was there left to say anyway? What was there left to do?

Back at the storage unit, all he could do was run and shut down. At first he had been shocked to see that report- so much that he couldn't even think beyond the sensation of being caged. The trapped feeling inside of him drove him to run without a clear destination in mind. When his mind clicked off, he dropped in that puddle next to the Impala. His mind and body had just given out. He didn't even know how he got inside the car; much less that he was in the car, until Sam began speaking.

Then, the whole time back at the motel he told himself Sam was right. John was his father- he had to be. He had almost resigned himself that this was fact when he walked 

in on that discussion of Sam and Bobby. There was no denying the truth any longer. He was the son of a monster and raised by a lying bastard drill sergeant.

He had no one. All his life was a lie. He belonged nowhere and to no one. That was all he thought in his seething anger. After all he had done for this family, the way he looked up to John, and the way he followed so blindly, it was all too much to bear. With his mind full of unbridled hatred, he noticed the neon sign on a ratty little bar. He entered, ordered a bottle of whiskey- high end for a change- and found a pool table.

For a few hours he drank and challenged the locals to some high stake eight ball. After raking in at least 500 bucks, no one would take him on. Instead, he found the darkest corner booth of the bar. The table was cramped, but still had amble room for him to rock back and forth in fury, face twisted as if he wanted to swear but couldn't quite think of words that described his hate enough. His immediate plan was to get thoroughly smashed. He had guzzled down six more shots in short order like a drowning man sucking in sea water.

"Don't you think you should take it easy?" A cute faded blonde waitress asked.

"Don't you think you should mind your own business?" Dean snapped. He stared blank, wide-eyed like the stares that showed up after Mary died. He forwent pouring the shots in the glass now, chugging straight from the bottle. After about 15 seconds of non-stop swallowing, the lining of his throat screamed and almost made him gag. He held it down and slapped the bottle back on the table. The waitress walked away, not risking any further attitude from the obviously drunk man.

Dean was looking out the windows, narrow-eyed like he thought the world would end if he looked away from it. He felt so angry, thunderous, and sharp with venom for everyone. The small part of Dean's mind that wasn't seething with irritation kept saying you love John and that voice sounded like Mary's smothered by alcohol. It screamed watery call about how much he loved that damn man.

"Screw it!" He told himself. He could dull this unending ache inside of him. He was going to get completely wasted, which wasn't going to be long by the way gulped down more. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then his fingers clamped around whatever comfort this bottle could bring.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to think straight for the first time since the motel door had slammed. He pushed past the seething anger, the frustration and the shock, and struggled to think it through. He had to get a handle on this. He had to get it under control. The burning anger almost killed the cold fingers of fear twisting in his guts. John had lied, spit on all Dean thought he was and what he believed in.

"Dammit," he mumbled, and let his head fall heavily into his hands. The twitching overhead lights burrowed their way through his fingers, and every bass line from the country song playing in the background crashed like sonic booms. The hurt in his heart pained him more than the light, the alcohol, or the noise combined. He dropped his hands and dropped his head to stare at the wood pattern of the table.

His eyebrows fused together with deep concentration and he didn't look up when a shadow fell over him. After a moment of being ignored, the shadow fell back, only to sit down in the opposite vacant seat. At first there was silence that was broken by the sound of a throat clearing. Dean looked up, his eyes wide as his head swam from the sudden movements. "Bobby!" he slurred with hatred.

Bobby still sat in the chair across from him, arms on the table and hunched over. "Nothing like a drink for what ails ya. Good for colds, moles, and sore assholes," he said as he observed the glassiness in Dean's eyes.

The drunken man made a noncommittal 'ummmm' noise.

Bobby nodded. "You're gonna be feeling that tomorrow." He could smell the whiskey on Dean's breath a mile away, seeping into his nostrils and making his head spin. Bobby signaled the waitress with a small sigh. She stood by the table, a tray balanced expertly on her hand. "Get me his bill and we'll have coffee" he said, keeping one eye on Dean, who wobbled a bit in his chair.

"I don't want a coffee!" Dean said suddenly, glaring at the man he once called friend.

"I think you've had enough hooch." Bobby said carefully.

Dean sat up a bit in his seat. "I'm not a little kid you can boss around."

"Hey," Bobby said, gruffly but very softly, as if he thought Dean was already too drunk. "It's me. I know you're lost right now."

Dean broke eye contact instantly, turning his attention back to the bottle. Dean gulped at it. He really needed to wet his throat before answering. And Bobby wanted to talk and explain, even though Dean was pretty sure he already knew what was going to be said. Really he wanted to punch Bobby just to find a way to get rid of some of this rage, but instead he gulped another long swig.

"Whoa, kid, slow down."

"Screw you!" Dean finally said. His eyes focused on the whiskey bottle planted on the shifting table. He took another pull at the bottle, a long one, and stopped when he started to cough.

"I know this must be hell, but you got to believe your Daddy loved you," Bobby muttered, sounding as tired and defeated as Dean felt.

"Which one? The liar or the rapist? Slim pickin's." Dean turned back to the bottle, twisting it round and round. The sarcasm, inflated by neither by enthusiasm nor humor, seemed to fall inside the whiskey bottle, which Dean seemed hell-bent on finding and gulping it back inside of him.

"That's not fair, Dean."

"Don't spout fair to me!" He looked down at the table top, avoiding Bobby's eyes. He could feel his grip on the table fading as his head whirled with the heavy music playing over the speakers. "It's hot in here."

Bobby leaned over and placed a very quick tap on Dean's forehead, which was warm and flushed. He grabbed under Dean's arms and yanked him up. "You're drunk and you need to get back to the motel before Sam jumps out of his skin."

"Get off of me!" Dean slurred, punching into Bobby's torso, the blows weak and disorganized from the corpulent amounts of liquor. "I hate you." At this moment, Dean couldn't win a fight with a wet paper bag.

"I know. Let it out!" Bobby stood strong, letting Dean smack until his energy was spent. The fist putting action to the anguish the young man felt. It almost seemed Dean was ready to cry, but he didn't.

"Damn you! Leave me alone." Dean pushed away and stumbled out the door.

Bobby followed right behind. "I can't do that, son."

"I'M NOT YOUR SONE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Dean screamed, picking up a stray bottle from the street, throwing it at Bobby and missing for a mile. Then he ran away as best he could.

Bobby could have followed, but nothing was going to reach inside of Dean's pain tonight. He decided to give Dean a few blocks head start. He would follow, find the boy passed out, and drag him back to the motel. Bobby sighed, talking to himself more than the fleeing Dean. "It's okay, kid. You're not ready."

-x-x-xx-x-x

Dean stumbled around for what felt like forever, or perhaps time seemed longer in his drink induced haze. He shuffled along until he tripped on some loose cobblestone edging. The stones once made up a small retaining wall around green earth. From this lower view, Dean noticed the rocks were part of the design of this place. The once strong walls had crumbled, letting the stones crumble free. When he reached up to brace himself to stand, his hand found a smooth carved stone. It was then he realized he was in a graveyard.

He scoffed, leaning against a head stone. He opened his mouth, speaking the name in a slur "Michael Webb… hmm... are you my father? Huh? ANSWER ME! No…hmm…" He stumbled further reading the names, wondering if he had crossed paths with his real father or if the bastard was somewhere rotting in the ground. Any person could be the one. From now on, he would wonder about everyone who passed him. Every name on a tombstone would be suspect. "Tom Hanson... How about you? You a bastard?" He asked, falling down in the grass, missing another line of the crumbling stone wall by inches.

Wobbling to his feet, he picked up a loose stone and wailed it as far as he could, watching it break against a crypt in the center of some graves placed in a semicircle around it. He contemplated crawling in a dark hole- one without any sensation. Sheets of rain poured down on him, yet he felt nothing, which was perfect sounding to him because he believed he was nothing now.

He walked to the semicircle and sat on one of the slab like monuments, which faced the crypt. Normally he would have had more respect for the dead and not even walk on a grave, but tonight he didn't feel like himself. He didn't even know himself. "Hughes! " Dean read above the entrance doors of the structure. He got up and tried to peer through the doors. "You got any wayward sons out there?" He swung a punch at the patina covered iron work on the doors and busted open his knuckles.

Slipping and wavering, he was about to collapse right in front of the crypt when, suddenly, the wind died down and the rain stopped. Alll was still. The thunderstorms seemed to be ending and the world was turning bright. Dean glared up, watching a sickly greenish black color paint on the sky and the clouds seemed to turn gangrenous before his eyes.

He heard a sound like a waterfall, which grew louder than the roar of a plane engine. A breeze nipped at his skin and he shivered. A few seconds later, the wind picked up small pebbles, and whipped them down upon him. At least he thought they were pebbles, but when he inspected one, a small ice pelt melted in his overly warm hand. "Hail?"

Bits of dust and debris swirled in the air and whipped into a funnel as the wind blew harder and harder.

"HELL!" Dean yelled, which was drowned by the roar of the air around him. He fumbled for one of the loose cobblestones from the edgings, slamming in down on the locked door of the crypt. "COME ON!" A hellish tornado was forming a good distance from him, but he still had time if he acted quickly.

Leaves ripped from the trees and vines wrenched from the ground and rocks. The foliage of the ancient graveyard melted into a blur along with other debris. The green started to turn grey. A cloud of debris rotated, funnel-shaped, picking up speed.

The door latch gave way on the crypt and Dean crawled inside. It was the nearest shelter in sight, even if it was far from the ideal place to wait out a tornado. Three tombs lined in a row and Dean raced behind one, falling to his knees. Crawling to the deepest part of the interior, right behind the raised marble slabs covering the above ground slabs, he lay flat and covered his head with his hands.

The door shrieked as if the steel could have been bending into unusual forms by sheer wind force, but Dean didn't look. He crouched tightly behind the center grave. The tornado was passing directly over the top of him and the walls were beginning to buckle. 

The howling wind was ear-piercing. Sounds of twisting and snapping filled the small space. Dean opened one eye and saw a wall begin to shake and quickly closed his eyes tight. He realized that this may not have been the best place to take cover. He may have escaped the thrashing winds and force of the powerful tornado just to be crushed in aftermath.


	5. LIES

**_Author's note: Okay, so I wrote this really fast while I had a bit of time. Forgive my silly late night typos. Wish I had more time, but that pesky life- work-laundry-cooking-cleaning- kept getting in the way. Thanks for the comments and catch you all soon!_**

_Lies, dripping off your mouth like dirt  
Lies, lies in every step you walk  
Lies, whispered sweetly in my ear  
Lies, lies in my papa's looks_

_**Lies- Rolling Stones**_

"DEAN!" Sam screeched at such a level that his voice gave way. When the strangled sound came back, it was reminiscent of swallowing a ton of gravel. Not even the limits of his own vocal chords stopped him from yelling again. "DEAN!? BOBBY!!.

A deep slash from shoulder to his bicep dripped blood down his left arm, but he didn't stop to register the pain. With each passing moment, he stumbled further in the tornado torn debris. The part of town nearest him had only seen the wind from the storm, which was more than enough damage for him to witness. As he drew closer to the epicenter, his heart rate and worry increased, thinking of how world shattering the natural elements could be. He just couldn't lose Dean or Bobby. Part of him felt horrible for yelling at their closest friend, the bigger part of him felt worse for knowing the last thoughts Dean had were gut wrenching at best. All Sam could think of was that the universe was not unfair enough to allow Dean to die in this mess. This world owed his brother some absolution and today was as good as a day as any. Whatever words he thought, he knew he was only justifying his hope to find Dean soon.

Each block found more wind torn buildings, cars, and people wailing in the aftermath. Sam stopped and helped an elderly lady to her feet, finding her still intact bench to rest on. Once he was sure she was okay, he moved on. The deeper he moved into the town, the more damage to the street and the more damage to his heart. Anger skimmed just below the surface of Sam's skin. His blood boiled and throbbed through his veins at Mach 10, which did little to stop the bleeding of his upper arm. He grabbed at the slash on his upper left arm, clamping and hand over it. "DEAN! BOBBY!... DEAN!! BOBBY!!"

It was beyond belief to be searching for his brother and friend-no Bobby's family he corrected in his mind. He never thought he would be in a disaster area. Sure, he could fathom ghosts, demons, and all sorts of evil, but not this. "DEAN!"

"Sam?"

He heard the voice, but before he caught a view of the person calling him, he had been whirled into a hearty hug. Bobby squeezed tightly. "God, it's good to see you boy."

"Bobby…" Sam spouted with regret and still a bit of bitterness. All in all things weren't okay yet, but having Bobby be alive was worth any anger that took place later. Sam breathed a sigh, thinking their oldest friend could somehow right this. When Bobby let go, Sam noticed an ugly gouge to Bobby's temple. "Are you okay!?"

"I'll be fine. Just had a difference of opinion with a two by four. That arm's nasty."

"It's nothing. Where's Dean?" Have you seen him? We have to find that bar!"

"Nothing to do at that place- everyone and everything there is gone"

"NO, he's not dead! He's NOT!" Sam grabbed Bobby's arms and shook hard. "I don't care.. We'll dig… until…"

"He wasn't there. I tried to get him to go back to the motel, but he wasn't ready to let go of the anger yet. I trailed him for a few blocks, but the storm picked up so quickly."

"YOU JUST LET HIM GO…GO OUT IN THIS!"

"You know I wouldn't." Bobby offered calmly, prepared to let Sam get the emotions out of his system.

"Oh…GOD… I'm sorry… I…"

"Never a problem. I know where he was when I last saw him. We can start there, but for now I think we need to get you looked at. I'll get to work on getting us resources to find our boy." Bobby offered.

-x-x-x-x-xx

Dean's unconscious body was lying limp, twisted and turned with the unlevel ground. His body bruised and battered from the earth, marble, and stones beneath him.

"Don't try move around, son. You're pinned. "

Dean heard the voice, but somehow didn't quite register the tone or the meaning behind the words.

"Come on Dean, wake up!" The voice said nervously.

Dean moaned and turned his head towards the direction of the voice. His eyes opened slowly and found not a single stream of light to assist him in assessing his surroundings or the man speaking to him so clearly. Not that he cared. Two things popped foremost in his mind on pure instinct. "SAM! BOBBY!" He yelled hoping beyond any wish they were near.

"They're not here." The voice said. "They're safe and looking for you."

"Who?" Dean asked, not wanting to admit the familiarity of the voice. Dean jutted forward in the darkness and rose about a foot from his splayed position. "ARGGH!" Only one arm, his shoulders, and head moved when he tried to rise. With his free hand he felt around, feeling something incredibly heavy. He reached in the darkness and finally felt something else- a long slender, smooth rod. Bone- the texture was bone. 

Thankfully it was too smooth and clean to be from him. Suddenly, Dean recognized that by the size it had to be a large bone from one of the bodies in the crypt. He flinched and the movement caused him pain.

Dean?" The voice grew louder and increased in a soft welcoming cadence. "You're trapped under marble. One of the tombs fell on you. Just take it easy."

"Dad…" He stopped, thinking this can't be real. "Get me out, if more..."

"The storms over, but you need to stop moving around so much. You're not going anywhere and all you're doing is allowing yourself to bleed more. You have a wound in your stomach. You..."

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW! IT'S THE BLACK HOLE OF…"

"Dean, I'm here to help you. You need to stay calm, don't move, and breathe easy. The crypt is collapsed and buried. You need to converse air."

"Then shut up and get me out of here."

"I can't."

"You're a great help! Thanks." Dean's sarcasm dripped like an ice cream left in out at noon in a desert.

"Not that kind of help." The voice said affectionately. "You're lost."

"No SHER SHITLOCK!"

"Stop fighting me and you will see. I can help you understand. You feel so lost, but you need to understand who you are.

"How can I!? Nothing ever belonged to me."

"Sam and I do. Let me help."

"No… you can't…" Dean knew the voice, loved it and hated it all at once. He knew the sounds belong to his father. Yet, it didn't belong to HIS father, but the man who lied to him all these years. "I don't need your help. You can't help me."

"I can…"

"Dad…" Dean stopped hating to hear that word. "You're not JOHN." Dean said is a vindictive way that spoke to the fact he would never call John his father again. That man didn't deserve that title after all this.

"It's me, son. I need you to help me," the voice said slowly.

A pit forming in his gut, Dean screamed, "Don't call me that "

"Look at me, Dean."

As if his muscles were on automatic pilot, Dean turned his head. Suddenly, the small space was filled with light and the image of John knelt down next to him. A gentle smile played on the face he had looked into countless times. Yet, now he found no comfort seeing it. "Great, I'm suffering head trauma!" He turned away, seeing for the first time the huge marble slab pinning him in place. Two of the crypt walls were missing, collapsed under and replaced by mounds of dirt. It was now that he could confirm the displacement of the bodies from their tombs and the bone he felt earlier.

"No, I'm here. You need me."

The statement made Dean return his gaze to John. "Great, you're here now when you can't do anything to get me out. Thanks JOHN! Take your Touch by an Angel moment and find Sam."

"Can't… came a long way to see you."

"Should have saved your airfare."

Without removing his gaze from his son, John inched towards Dean, still speaking in a low, smooth tone. "You've never needed me more than now."

"I don't need you anymore. You had nothing for me when you were living. WHY would you have anything for me now? It was all for Sam! Take care of Sam! Watch him! Fall in line! Now I know why! I was never your son!

"You are."

"Well, I have evidence that says your blood doesn't flow through my veins. So if you want to lie in spirit as much as you did in life, go ahead."

"Blood is not why ties me to you. It never was. And I'm sorry it took so long for me to tell you. I was so blind, Dean. I never knew how much you needed me… never knew the right thing to say… that you needed to hear the smallest words from me. I was so lost and caught up in something. You were so strong. I just didn't see it, but it didn't mean I didn't love you. You and Sam were my safety and hope. Both of you."

"Sam's your blood. Don't worry. It makes sense now. Got to protect your own! I was the perfect expendable solider. Did you ever care? Why do I still put myself threw all this pain? I still wait for one simple smile or a kind word for you. Why? I don't even know. I'm battered…broken, but I still just want to please you. And I hate you and 

myself for it. I let you use me. I followed you blindly. It feels like a sick and twisted ritual I perform in hopes of returning to the past happiness. That feeling passes quickly and I'll I have left is darkness and hate. YOU weren't blind- I was!

"You were selfless, not blind. You were always the heart of this family from the beginning. If you only knew how you healed us- Mary and me. Just like you did with Sam and me over and over again."

"Learned my role well. Glad you're happy. Message received… move along now!"

"Hey, you remember when I put you in the school in Green Bay."

Dean turned away. "What does any of that matter?" He glanced back, wondering if he could strike at this vision and forcefully ending their conversation with a fist. He sickened with rage, pain, and love for the man before him.

"You remember how you got suspended for that entire week for not doing school work?" John stated shyly awaiting a replied.

Dean stared at him with indifference fighting to keep the hateful sneer on face. Somehow, he wanted the connection with John and he fought hard to keep the proper amount of anger displayed. The true ire came from disappointment in himself for falling back into the pattern of obedient, loving dog to John. He wouldn't acknowledge John anymore. He could wait for a response that Dean would never give.

"I missed how much you needed me. I thought you were slacking off. You got ill and I was relieved I could take care of you. I thought you needed me to take care of your sickness, but I missed the most important lesson that week. Sam and I needed you so much…leaned on you and I thought you were so much stronger than anyone in the world… and I…" John sighed. "I did my best, but it wasn't enough for you. I guess I was too fallible to know you needed more from me. You hid it so well, but I should have seen how bad you hurt." John said in a way that a person would at confession. "…especially when you deserved more. "

"Well, it's too late now. You can make you amends to someone else." An indifferent look slowly melted into a cold hateful glare. The hate was easier now. This wasn't John, but inside of his own head. Nothing would bring his father- Damn it, he said it again…his father…John's not your father moron. He reminded himself in his mind. This was all in his head. "Now, I'm just lying to myself, letting this delusion of you tell me things I want to hear. It's not true though." Dean filled with so much raw hate for John and the image before him now. But the great hatred was for the man who really was his biological father. He felt it explained too much. He finally knew the source of his flaws. And it wasn't from John. This presence was too perfect, even the voice. And God he hated John's voice right now, hated it almost as much as he wanted to hate the man. "Let me be! Go to your real son!"

"I claimed you the day you were born and you claimed me. I can't let you go that easy." John reassured his voice devoid of or sadness, only filled with warmth and caring.

Dean shook his head. He didn't want to hear this perfect vision reassure him. He wanted the entire world to rage with him. He let out a scream of pain, crying in anguish. "Every time someone said I was like you, looked like you…had your temper… your skills….. IT WAS A LIE! And all you have for me now are lies! All I ever wanted was for someone to give me a home and let me feel wanted, but I gave up. I'm completely on my own now and nothing you can say will change that!

"Then why did you call out for Bobby and Sam. You are so angry that you are saying things to spite yourself. We're your family. Always have been and always will be. You just don't want to see it. You're too hurt and you are letting it swallow you. Don't put yourself through this hell!"

"YOU GAVE ME THIS HELL! AND FOR ALL I CARE YOU CAN MARCH STRAIGHT BACK TO HELL!" As soon the words slipped from his mouth, Dean gasped.


	6. Walls

_Author's note: Okay, so how about another quickly written chapter! If anyone can clone me so I could write all day and never go to work, I would love you! I love you all anyway for the support, but for Christmas this year- CLONE! Yeah…wait… uh... clones... if you can clone… find Dean John and Sam….and …..I'll be over here with my impure thoughts now. Until I return to reality, I hope you enjoy this chapter._

**You are said you'd never leave me  
and yet there you go  
Hey this wasn't supposed to happen  
And yet there you go  
Right to the door  
Leaving me alone**

**Cause I wish you would be with me forever  
it's catastrophe  
I just thought together we'd stay  
Now I'm looking for your hand  
Where are you  
Cause all four walls are comin' down tonight**

**"This Wasn't Supposed To Happen"- Army of Anyone**

"EXCUSE ME!" Sam screamed at a young woman dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of ripped, filthy sweats.

"It's Ally. And attitudes of importance should be stowed at this moment." The fiery red head said as she turned to face him for a brief second only to turn away in a fashion that that said don't mess with me.

"I DON'T HAVE AN ATTITUD…" It was then that Sam realized he had been screaming over the multiple voices in the emergency tent triage and treatment set up. "Sorry… I…." He said softer, not really expecting a reaction, but the new tone peaked her interest.

"No worries, cutie. I'm on a short fuse at the moment too. I'll get someone to take a look at you, but there are far worse…"

"I'm not complaining. I can take care of this myself with some supplies, but I'm looking for my brother."

"Have you checked this list at the front? They are logging everyone in as fast as we can and if he was bad enough he would have been assessed and sent by helicopter to a hospital."

"I checked, but my uncle is looking again. I've been up and down each row and I can't find him. He was out during the storm and I haven't seen him since. He was near the bar on Main Street…"

Ally gave him a concerned look that said your brother could be dead.

"He's alive. I know it. You have to know the guy."

"Get me a description and a name and I can ask the paramedics and emergency crews to look out for him and alert me. "

"Thanks I'd…"

"Well, that was worthless!" Bobby interrupted. "Nothing on the list and the Nazi Police won't let me through the barricades they put in place. Wonder if I can get us a bulldozer and take care of that!"

"Let me guess…the uncle."

"Yeah…" Sam admitted sheepishly. "Bobby meet Ally…"

"Ma'am."

"I'm not old enough for ma'am yet….I HOPE." In truth she was maybe a year or so older than Dean, but Sam could tell she was trying to alleviate the pressure of the moment. "Call me Ally or if you prefer something more formal, you can call me Dr. Ally Cain. And cutie, you haven't told me your name yet or your missing brother's."

"Sam….. I'm Sam. Dean's my brother. He a bit shorter than me, close cropped hair…uh…. he was near the center of the storm."

"Okay, Sam. But if you have field experience, I could use the extra hands."

"I don't have your credentials. Just some field training from a hard core Marine."

"I'll take all the help I can get… And I can get you passed those lines."

"And you want to help us?" Bobby offered.

"I get the sense you would find that bulldozer and cause lots of trouble none of us need at the moment."

"He would." Sam admitted with a grin. Yet, this was a deal neither Bobby nor Sam would dare pass up.

**-x-x-xx-x-xx-x-x-x**

Sam climbed over the ruined cars and bricks when he heard thumps from inside a broken structure. He tore at the debris, until he reached a beaten and battered steel door, which was partly buried. From the sound of things people were going insane down there. "HEY! GOT SURVIVORS OVER HERE!" Only the thought that the next person saved could be Dean kept him going. And Ally and Bobby offered him kind words just when he needed those most, which seemed to happen after they helped someone who was not Dean. Bobby suddenly was at his side, joining him pulling at the more dirt and rocks. Suddenly a group assaulted the building and the doors were pried open.

A spattering of emergency vehicles had pushed through and three helicopters flew across the ruined city, a team positioned in each of them. Several news copters rolled overhead as well, but they weren't part of the action, just watchers of the macabre destruction.

As a huddle mass of people poured from the sub-basement of a store, Sam watched. His heart sank when the building was cleared and nothing. "Excuse me," he asked a woman who had just been freed. "I'm looking for my brother. He's about..."

"I'm sorry. Everyone in the store is with us. No one else was there."

"Thanks anyway…" he said politely but downtrodden. Bobby glanced at Sam as he guided one of the people towards safety.

Sam left Bobby to it. Finding the broken car hood where Alley took a breather, Sam sat next to her. She responded by handing her co-rescuer a bottle of water.

"Thanks."

"You earned it. You don't give up easily."

"Can't."

"You could run off and not help me at all, search for Dean."

"Dean would have my hide."

"Okay, you've confused me. Your brother would skin you for finding him."

Sam chuckled. "No, not for that. He…he uh… He would think of these people first. When we were younger I tried hard to be like him. You know what it's like to have an older brother who just could do no wrong."

"Yeah! Got two brothers of my own."

"We'll just when you wanted to envy and smack the hell out of Dean, he has this selfless way of putting everyone else first. And, it wasn't a show… just him… And he never sees himself that way."

"The talented humble one?"

"Not so humble...more smartass! But, he always made sure I was okay and… and he kept our family going. He would really give you the shirt off his back or his life to save you."

"Wow… and here I thought you might be the good one of your family." Ally teased.

"Uh... uh..." Suddenly Sam felt a bit uncomfortable. "He taught me so much when we were kids and I owe him more than I can ever repay. I just hope I get the chance to try."

"You know I get the sense there is a bigger story here. Something happen?"

"Nah... nothing more than usual for us, but the last words any of us said to each other was said in shock and bitterness."

"Well, if you he is who you say… Wherever he is, he knows deep down you love him and that will always heal any wound."

"I hope so. He's a fighter with the biggest heart of anyone I know. Yet, he would be the first to deny that."

"Sounds like you two have a lot in common. After the lives you have saved today, I can only hope your brother is as wonderful as you think he is."

"He's my brother. The best one….who always comes for me. And now it's my turn."

One of the choppers leaned in, touching down a distance from them to collect the injured. A woman pushed forward, jumping from the chopper and ushering the survivors in. Ally and Sam watched the vehicle take flight and barely noticed Bobby had rejoined them.

"You two alright?" The seasoned hunter asked.

"Fine." Sam said distantly.

"Let's load up and get to the next block, things are well in hand here." Bobby motioned to the Hummer resting awkwardly on the broken road. "Unless you two need a moment? You've been at it really hard."

"I'm just perfect like the t-shirt says." It was then that Sam finally noticed the novelty shirt his newest friend wore- Perfect (see me). "You know- Dean and you are going to be great friends I can tell."

"Oh, and you're an expert after two hours."

"Yeah."

"I see you have humbleness in common with Dean, too." She said, moving towards her vehicle.

"Well, you and he do have obsessions with your cars."

"My Hummer isn't a car. It's compensation for my ex-boyfriends' male inadequacies. Ready when you are." She laughed as she hoped inside.

"I get the sense that gal is as tough as nails, but got a big heart. Think she is starting to like you."

"She's just trying to keep my mind off Dean."

"Is it working?"

"For about a nanosecond."

"We'll find him."

"Hey, Bobby…I…I uh."

"I know. I'm sorry too."

"I shouldn't have…"

"No, but you needed to…"

"Doesn't make it right…"

"Hush up, son. This is harder to face than anything you hunted. Demons you can take care off but hurt… that's harder to kill."

"I just hope it doesn't kill the best of Dean."

"hmmph…Do you love Dean any less because of this?"

"NO! He's my brother."

"If you woke up tomorrow and you were no relation to Dean whatsoever, would that change what he means to you?"

"I…I…no, he's still Dean."

"And he needs us to remind him of that. So, no matter how bad we feel, this is about him and what he means to us and what he meant to John. He can't see it yet, but he'll come around."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause he cares- always has. You ever know Dean to not help anyone he met. It may take a while, but we can work on healing part of that when we find him. You just have to hang on too. And if you need to yell at anyone, I can take it."

"Thanks…. I…."

"Come on, kiddo. We got more ground to cover.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"If we don't find him- save him- I'll… I'll lose it. I can feel it in my soul. The darkness will take over and I won't be able to control it. It's in there, waiting for me. If I don't have…"

"We'll find him." Bobby began to wonder if some of the demon blood in Sam still ran in those veins and if the young man would be lost without Dean to remind them of why they kept hunting. What if Dean really was the link to Sam's innocence?


	7. Heart

_**Author's note: HOLA! I'm Speedy Typ-onzolas. Arriba! Arriba! More chapters… faster. For every 5 chapters I hear you get an Impala ride for free. At least that is why my chain e-mail told me. I'll let you know if it works. Then again, it could be the massive amounts of caffeine I consumed today making me say all this. Much love for the support and reviews. Hope to get you another chapter tomorrow**__. _

_-x-x-xx—x-xx-x—xx-x-x-x-x-xx-x—x-x-x-x-x-x—x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x—x-x-x-x-x_

**why can't you see that you are my child  
why don't you know that you are my mind  
tell everyone in the world, that I'm you  
take this promise to the end of you  
walk with me my little friend  
take this promise to the end  
speak with me my only mind  
walk with me until the end**

**Forest- System of a Down**

Even though he wanted to scream at John, Dean felt remorse the moment the "go to hell" card was played. He didn't mean it. Even in anger that was too harsh. "Damn, what am I becoming?" He looked at the image of the father he knew, looking for the spirit to answer and hurl insults about Dean's obvious flaws. He expected anger, but only a glimmer of being vanquished flashed on John's face.

"I would gladly die a thousand times to spare you the pain you have inside of you."

"My fath... " Dean stopped, reminding himself he had no father now. "…JOHN would never say that." Dean admitted, defeat setting up in his heart. A nauseating silence settled in the space.

It was John who finally broke the silence. "Back in Green Bay, when Sam won his first science competition at school."

Dean slunk, as if he could crawl under the slab stone and forget this or at least make this fake image of John go away. Yet, part of him was horrified at the deadly calm reflected in John's eyes. He had seen that look before when his father-_DAMN_, he corrected his thoughts. _He is not my father. No matter how much I want this. _Dean pushed the thoughts away. Here he was- bleeding and waiting for his air to run out and John could only think of telling him about Sam.

"Don't move about. The bleeding isn't too bad, but you don't want to make it worse."

"What does it matter? I die now. I die a few weeks from now."

"Who says you're going anywhere?"

"In case you didn't notice… JOHN…" He said with venom, "…I got a non-refundable one way trip to Hell myself."

"You already know what to do. You've been thinking about it for a while. Sam can't see you die again."

"Sam… take care of Sammy... Save him or kill him…. Sam …Sam... Sam… Heard that song and dance before. Yeah, I guess it's hard to not talk about Sam. Mr. Brainiac. Mr. Perfect. The smartest damned man in the known universe." Again as he said the words, Dean felt ill at ease. Sure, he hated living in Sam's shadow and never being quite smart enough to measure up, but he didn't resent Sam for it. And knowing how much he loved Sam, he couldn't blame John for doting on his little brother. But John needed to be hurt like Dean hurt.

"Dean?" John approached carefully. "You don't mean that."

"Well, you taught me hate. I learned it well."

"Dean?" He asked again, still presented with silence. "Dean..." The tone was more cautious now. "You need to answer me." He got an answer this time, but it was more unsettling than the silence. Dean made a growling noise as his entire body tensed. "Dean," he reassured one more time, wishing his son would give him the smallest response. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Clenching his jaw, Dean tensed. For the first time in a very long time he found himself without words. The person he hated the most in this world was really him. Who he wanted to be wasn't true. He had spent his life loving someone who couldn't possibly love him back. Not after what his real father did to his mother. It was no wonder after Mary died that John changed the way he acted around him. Dean felt so vulnerable and lost.

Suddenly John chuckled. "You boys…always trying to live in the others image. Stop comparing yourself to Sam. Course, he compares himself to you…just as much."

The irk of irritation mingled with curiosity. Dean couldn't figure out where this was going.

"Who do you think made Sam study so hard? You told him that he had to be smarter to take care of himself. Later on that a good hunter had to think fast. You made him proud to be smart and YOU helped him win that science fair not me. I was too busy on my mission to see it… Too pissed at you for getting kicked out for a week. You took it all in stride, but it was then that I knew you were the heart of this family. And you have no idea how those small things keep my soul from becoming rot."

**-x-x-xx-x-xx-**

**Green Bay- 2 a.m. -- 1991**

'DAD!" Sam yelled, trophy in hand. John barely had time to get in the door and drop his duffle before Sam jutted the small gold memento in John's face.

"Whoa! Sammy. That's great."

"I won."

John chuckled. "I think that is cause for celebration. PIZZA for dinner tomorrow."

"Dad did you find work. I really want to stay at this school!"

"We'll see… But at least we will be here for this term. As long as you and Dean keep out of trouble."

"NEATO!"

"Neato?" John shook his head, wondering where Sam picked up that new catch phrase. "Find the phone book and pick the place and we'll go there tomorrow. You earned this"

"YES!" Sam screamed excitedly. John finally turned to Dean, who was busy putting away the weapons before little Sam asked any more questions. "Dean?"

"Yes, sir."

"It's Friday. Means this Monday you go back to school. Don't want you slacking off and not doing that homework again. You can't draw attention that you boys are on your own. Do you want them to break us up?"

"No, sir." Dean admitted with a bit of panic.

"Then, at least make a half effort."

"Yes sir." Dean dragged his feet a bit and then looked a bit paler.

John, thinking his message had been well learned from the week of extra chores had reminded Dean of the importance of putting the family first, let his son go without more lecture. He secretly wondered if Sam's award had made Dean feel even worse. "Go on, get things squared away. You and Sam need to hit the couch for sleep soon."

"Yes, sir. I made the bed like you like it and Sam..."

"That's fine, Dean." John turned back to Sam. "Hey! Did you find the place yet?"

As John and Sam chatted proudly about Sam's achievement, Dean shrunk back further into a corner chair. He closed his eyes, feeling nauseous. He shivered a bit, opened his eyes and took a deep breath before looking over at his family with an exhausted stare. John returned the look with a disappointed glance. "Sam, go on and brush your teeth. It's bedtime."

"But, we waited up for you."

"I know, but sleep is important for growing brains. Go on." John waited for Sam to leave before he started towards his other son. "Dean?" John approached, thinking his oldest needed another lecture about being happy of Sam's accomplishments. "You aren't pouting about this award."

"No, sir," Dean answered a bit sluggishly.

When John leaned forward and hunched down, his hand rested on Dean's shoulder. The palm felt heated warmth emanating from Dean. "Son, are you ill?"

"Not really…" Dean said in a way that sounded tougher.

A large hand cupped over Dean's forehead. "Not really feels really hot to me. How long?"

"Don't know. A day or so."

"Okay. Bed rest until the fever breaks. My orders."

"I'm okay, Dad."

John smiled softly. "Then listen and get to bed."

His oldest child nodded and he noticed Dean pushing himself up on exhausted legs. After a few sluggish steps, Dean looked as if he would fall asleep on his feet. When John scooped Dean off the floor, his son still tried to move his legs and walk. That effort was short lived as Dean drifted into a doze on John's forearm. "Okay, kiddo." Dean leaned back into his John's warmth and relaxed more until he heard Sam's voice.

"Dean? Dad, what's wrong with Dean!" Sam piped up from the bathroom door and ran towards John. Hearing Sam's voice seemed to register and Dean's eyes fluttered for a bit before they closed again.

"Shh… it's fine. He's just got the flu and needs sleep." John moved towards the big bed in the motel room. On this one occasion he could only afford a single, but the boys had taken sleeping on the couch without complaint.

"Dean made the bed for you. He'll…"

"He's not awake enough to argue. Come on… hop in. We'll watch over him tonight. What do you think?" John gently placed Dean down, ensuring the movement wouldn't disturb his sick son. After wrapping the blanket so tightly around him, John crawled in beside him. "Come on now."

"But, Dean always tucks me in. He can't be sick. He has to be okay."

"He'll be fine. Don't worry. Think you can be grown up tonight and lock the door and turn off the lights."

"Yeah…just like Dean."

"Hmmm..."

Sam bolted to the door, clicked the lock and flicked the main light off. The small table lamp near the bed cast a dim enough light to outline the furniture in the room as black shadow blobs. Sam avoided them and jumped on the other side of Dean. "Dad?"

"Sleep."

"Dean said he would help me with my report this weekend. Will you help me now?"

"Sam, you don't need anyone's help."

"But he helped me with the project and I won."

"Dean helped you last week?"

"Every night."

John gulped, feeling like a total asshole. "Make you a deal. I'll help and we'll let Dean rest up this weekend. Okay?"

Sam nodded. "Dean's okay?"

"Fine… just sleep now."

When Sam grew quiet, John squeezed closer to Dean. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of his son's head in apology.

**-xx-x-x-xx-x-x**

"Great! You helped Sam once with homework."

"It's not about Sam. You spent an entire week being there for him and let your own school work go. You never said a word about it and never asked for glory from it. You gave so willingly and even when you were sick you did everything I gave you as punishment for getting kicked out. You loved us so much that you couldn't burden us with anything. And it gave me so much hope that my son could stand so much and not give in. You gave me strength to go back out and face hunts again and again. You made Sam study hard. Gave him courage to stand up to the world… hell even me."

"So, it's my fault Sam left."

"Damn, you sure got my hard head."

"I didn't get YOUR anything, JOHN!" Before John could counter, Dean let his bottled emotions go. "Sam left for his education and it's my fault. You broke your damn neck to swing by college…make sure he was okay…. But… BUT YOU…. You could leave me without a word. Let me panic that you were hurt or dead. You could leave me without a thought. You abandoned me! How could you do that to someone you LOVE!? To someone who GAVE YOU COURAGE?!"

"I..."

"NO! This is all just my own wishful thinking. Just my still half drunk, dying way to feel better about this! I called you from Lawrence… needed you…and nothing! I was dying and Sam called you… AND you didn't lift a finger!


	8. eyes open

Can hold my breath only for a little while 'til reality starts sinking in

Once again I'm settling for second best

Turn the pages skip to the end to where I swore that I would try

Since the last time I crossed that line in the back of my mind

I know it only hurts when your eyes are open l

Lies get tossed and truth is spoken

It only hurts when that door gets open

Dreams are lost and hearts are broken

**It only Hurts****- Default**

.

So, don't even pretend that you care! You left me without so much as a moment of consideration and didn't break your neck to stalk after me like you did with Sam. But, it's okay. I wasn't yours. Any expectations I had from you are absolved." Dean spit accusations.

John looked at him mournfully, but didn't try to stop the words spewing from Dean's mouth.

Dean erupted into a torrent of screaming insults. "You dumped crap on me. Toe the line, BOY! Watch your brother! Don't mess up! Follow my orders! Don't ask questions! AND ALL I EVER WANTED WAS A KIND WORD FROM YOU! I WAS NEVER FIRST! I didn't ask for it all the time, but just once.. .just once you could have put me first…just once."

John clenched at the pure emotion in his son's voice. The pain, love, and hurt spilling so strongly in the cramped tomb. It could have torn his heart out if one still beat in his chest.

"I watched you and Sam go at it like rabid dogs everyday and you still loved him. Me... One mistake and it was the silent treatment. " Dean fixed John with a cold hatful glare. It would all seem so much better if he could swing a fist-punch the anger away, but he was still trapped. Somewhere he recognized it was harder to breathe now, but he could care less. "You put the weight of the world on me and when Sam and I need you most, you cut out and run. Then you're back with us for five- ever loving- controlling- my way plan to get the demon- minutes and you give up to the bastard. You asked me to kill SAM! KILL THE ONLY PERSON I HAVE! WHO I EVER HAD! But, you could do that... you could put YOUR SON OUT OF HIS MISERY. You had no problem letting me be alone. Nothing for me... Well I screwed up your plan. Your weapon let you down." Suddenly, Dean realized John was quiet. "SAY SOMETHING!"

"I'm sorry. I had no idea until I left this world how badly I failed you both."

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want sympathy from you. All my life I couldn't have friends cause I had to take care of the family. And when I did find someone I cared about you didn't notice. I never went to dances… never went on real dates…had to hide what we did or someone 

would lock us away as nutters… You know the only time you ever gave me a present for my birthday was a hand me down weapon when you got a new one. And Sam was smart enough to get out. I just stayed like a lap dog, thinking one day the man… " Dean sniffled in rage. "That one day the man I thought you were would come back. But you didn't…DAMN IT!! SAY SOMETHING."

"You deserve this. It's been festering inside you for too long. You know the day Sam left, he told me I had better learn to appreciate you because one day I would drive you away too. Maybe's he right. Hell, I don't know. All I do know is that I was so messed up after Mary, I was a changed man. I know I shouldn't have leaned on you... gave so much upon you. But I trusted you. I knew you were stronger than me. I knew Sam would never give in to anger with you. I would only feed that demon blood in him. You could save it. And above all, you couldn't die. Not then…. Not when you have so much greatness in you. Maybe a kid or two down the line…A home. I died when Mary did. Only when I looked at you boys did I ever feel connected to anything. I never had a doubt about you. I never knew how much pain you hid. I should have known how badly you hurt after Mary died. After what you saw."

"SHUT UP!"

"We don't have to talk about it. But, we share that. Sam never knew that part of our life. And I wanted to rip that demon's eyes out with my bare hands for taking my wife, but more for taking your innocence. He hurt you so badly and I couldn't do anything. A big bad solider I was- emotionally crippled. What the hell could I give you? Nothing you deserved. Too much revenge inside of me to notice. After a while, I didn't think you needed me. You gave me such a brave face that I told myself you had adjusted. But how could you? And right now, part of you wants to hang me for what I've done wrong and the other part hates that you love me still. And GOD, I am so grateful for your love."

"Yeah, that's why you ran around the country for a year without a second blink."

John's voice was quiet, but strong. "You're wrong you know. Giving you up was never easy."

"And I'm supposed to believe that? You're not real... not here remember?"

"When this is all over, I want you to go back to the storage unit. In a box…you remember the ones you use to make buildings out of when I brought them back from work? Find it, then you will know I am really here and what I'm telling you is the truth."

"Nothing will make me love you again."

"I'll guess I just have to love you with a return. Its still worth it."

Dean flinched the words affecting him deeply. He visualized turning his emotions off like a rusty faucet at a kitchen sink.

"I never needed to try hard with you. You made my life easy. Sam and I fought so much because you gave him a mind of his own. And that makes me so proud. You called me out when we reunited about not being there for you. Do you remember?"

"Yeah... you said I was right. SO WHAT?! You and Sam never knew I was alive when you fought."

"I deserve that and what you said before we went after that demonic bastard. When you called me out, it was the first time I saw how Sam sparked the fight in you. And Sam changed by being around you, too. You held your own and damn you were right. I wasn't use to that, but I was so proud of you. Despite my failings, I had two sons who were courageous, strong, and still holding onto hope. And I don't think I can take any credit for that."

"Stop…" Dean whimpered more than demanded.

"The day I was supposed to meet you at that diner and didn't show up. I was there. I watched you for three days. The look on your face… The sheer panic and hurt… it almost killed me. I actually started to come in, but you left a minute before I could get there and raced for Sam's. I followed you all the way and watched as you and your brother reconnect. It was the best thing I could ever see. It gave me strength to go on with this. I had to keep the demons from hurting you both. It was getting uglier and I couldn't risk you with this battle."

"You'll make up any excuse for your absence."

"Not this time. And I was there… in Lawrence. I use to play your messages on my voicemail daily, but that one day... the sound of your voice felt like nails in ears. I raced there to get Missouri to help you, but you boys found her too. Should have known you boys were smarter than me. I hid in her back room, spying on you… YOU…you almost caught me. I leaned out too far and you turned towards me. Missouri threatened you with a spoon to get your attention."

"You can't know about the spoon…. Not true…not…"

"And when you were hurt, I leaked information to our friends. I knew Sam wouldn't give up and contact the entire world to save you. He would force you to go to that faith healer. I stayed at that church tent for over a week, waiting for you. When I saw that damn car, I felt reborn. I snuck in back of that tent, keeping an eye on you and Sam and trying to not let the demons know I was near. I witnessed your healing and when you fell I actually ran towards you, but the crowd got in the way. Damn, Sam was at your side so fast. I blinked and he was taking charge. You boys were capable without my guidance. I thought I could at least lead yout when you were boys. I didn't know it came off as orders. It was something I could do for you…"

John scoffed. "You're right. I couldn't let Sam go astray from my eye, and I couldn't do it with you either. Think about it. I sent you on hunts so far away from the battle grounds of yellow eyes, I had a guarantee you were safe from his reach. It may have been wrong."

"You can't have been there. We would have known….we…"

-x-xx-xx-x-xx-x-x-x-x

Sam tried not to collapse as he the lead rescuer on their team announced this was the last block on their search grid-The last block in this part of the town before open country side. All Sam thought was this was the last part of town that Dean could have found shelter in. He was headed in this direction, so he had to be somewhere. Squaring his shoulders, he prepared himself for the wave of pain that would come with a night of digging in the rubble with his bare fingers.

Bobby stood beside him and gently squeezed Sam's arm in reassurance. "He'll be here. I can feel it. We have to be close." He tried to sound sincere and sure, but the falter in Bobby's voice was more than noticeable.

"Sam?" He heard from the woman who had been their companion for hours now. Her voice sounded timid almost afraid. "I'm sorry. I'll stay as long as you like to help you search." She didn't have the heart to tell him that if Dean got sucked into the vortex, he may never be found.

"Thanks…" He whispered, doubling over, as if in pain. He slumped to an intact piece of sidewalk, disgusted he was still brother-less. Head resting on his knees, he watched as Ally tentatively sits beside him, a hand over her mouth as if she is thinking of what to say. Then he spoke again. "…but I can't ask you to do that. Your skills are needed at the hospital or in another part of town."

"No one is allowing you to ask." Bobby offered.

"Do you know how many people you and Bobby saved today?"

"It's not a big deal. You're amazing. Just the way you took care of the injured. I could never do something like that…."

"Yeah it is a big deal. I think more of my time is the least I can do."

"If he's hurt...or….or..." He whispered, voice shaking. "I will be my fault. I brought him here and where he is going to go is all my fault." Heart ripping apart, he looked over at Ally when her arm snaked about his shoulders. The thoughts racing _Oh God... he might be dead._

It's not your fault." She said quietly, water welling in her eyes with sympathy. "We'll get him soon. And it's not your fault, either." She directed towards Bobby.

Sam mused at the tender hearted hard shell of a doctor he had come to know. He felt his stomach sink into his shoes when silence fell over the little group gathered together-not that there was much to say. There was nothing more terrifying than feeling your hope slow die.

"It's just a matter of time." Bobby suggested.

Another empty consolation. Dean would have cracked a joke and made him feel better right about now. But he was gone. And he would rather face a zombie horde with his brother than be 

out here on his own. But, how could he explain that even in the reassuring company of Bobby and Ally everything paled in his loneliness.


	9. Believe

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, I am too tired to write anything remotely witty or even a reasonable facsimile thereof. So, I'll just leave you with the last posting for this week. I have a really busy weekend. But the good news (or bad) is that the story is getting close to the end. Maybe four chapters or so? Thanks for the reviews and feedback. I appreciate your thoughts.**

-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x

So give me something to believe  
Cause I am living just to breathe  
And I need something more  
To keep on breathing for  
So give me something to believe

Something's always coming you can hear it in the ground  
It swells into the air  
With the rising  
Rising sound  
And never comes but shakes the boards and rattles all the doors  
What are we waiting for

I am hiding from some beast  
But the beast was always here  
Watching without eyes  
Because the beast is just my fear  
That I am just nothing  
Now it's just what I've become  
What am I waiting for  
Its already done

**Believe- The Bravery**

.

John smiled briefly, and then looked down in sadness. "I didn't want you to know. If you found me out, the demon would know and use you. But I need you to understand now. There is enough pain to work through in ten lifetimes, but one thing I can do. I can't heal and mend all I've done. I know this is too little… way too damn late. You have blessed this family from the first moment I held you. You just took all the pain I had and smothered it in love. You need to know how my first born changed my life completely and how you healed two souls I thought were way past broken."

"I'm not yours." Dean said quietly with voice breaking.

"In all your anger, you still want me?" This time it wasn't an all knowing statement, but a question seeking forgiveness. "You still want me for a father?"

Dean's eyes glued to John's as he tried to keep his resolve strong, but it was hopeless. His face twisted and his eyes glassed over. He gasped suddenly, thinking he was about to lose all attempts at keeping himself from giving into the need to be John's son. However, he was wrong about the gasp. It was his body reacted to the thinning air.

"Shh... hey, relax. Breathe easy. If you listen to nothing else I've said… if you believe nothing else… remember this… remember how you became my son."

Dean quivered his bottom lip. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"After Mary's attack, we were both so ugly and angry. All the while, you grew inside her. We fought. All you heard- all that pulsed into your growing form was bitterness. From the time you were give life, all you were exposed to was hatred. I even wanted to leave Mary, it got so bad. But, you came earlier than planned. Messed up my plan to run big time, I was always really good at that. Easier than facing emotions. Funny, how we share that trait. We just bottle it all in. I tried to bottle it for a while. Act like nothing had changed- that Mary was the same and that once you were born, we could start over the two of us. But, you came and we refused to even look at you. The nurse just took you to the nursery. We called some social worker to put you up for adoption.

"Sorry, I was such a burden." Dean gasped again, seeking fresh air.

"The first hours of your life, you were alone. That was the first of my many sins against you. I thought I could just let you go. You had other ideas about the situation."

**-x-xx-xx-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x**

**Topeka, Kansas 1979**

John strode quickly towards the nursery, wanting to sign the papers quickly and forget the whole mess happened. Yet, how could he forget? He would see the monster that this unholy act produced. He convinced himself ugly half human creature awaited him. It was easier that way. A growing dark hole had become second nature to him and it would never go away with any amount of beer or reassuring words. For almost eight months, his wife carried another man's child, tainting their lives.

As John turned the corner, his ears detected the most gruesome and pitiful wails he had ever heard. It was human, but unnatural with some sort of feral flavor to it. "Damn, that's ungodly." The closer he got the louder the scream became. A desperate plea of a cry of anger and fear assaulted from all directions. When John entered the nursery, he watched as a nurse tried desperately to quiet the small creature, who emitted that injured sound.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE BE QUIET!"

"Don't think it will understand you." John mused.

"He won't eat, he won't sleep. BUT he can sure scream. He's been at it for hours and I can't figure out what he wants." She cried as she tried to insert a bottle in the noise maker with no 

success. Sadly she gave up, put the bottle beside the rocker she was in, got up, and put the screamer in one of the plastic baby bed, which John called oversized Tupperware in his mind.

The nurse who tried to comfort the child retrieved another quiet child, got another bottle ready, and began feeding her. "CAN I HELP YOU?" She asked pointedly without taking attention from her new charge.

"I'm supposed to meet Agnes here to sign…."

"Oh, she got held up in traffic. Some motorcycle accident on the interstate has it backed-up for miles. Agnes is going to have a good time getting the screamer adopted. Can't say I blame you with that noise coming out all the time."

"The boy… he's…"

"You Winchester?"

"Yes, but he's not..."

"He's yours…"

"You don't understand, I'm not…"

"Damndest set of lungs I ever heard."

And the wail continued. John couldn't believe the squeal coming from such a tiny thing. It only served to confirm his idea of a monster. He didn't really know what pulled him to go over to the boy. Maybe it was morbid curiosity- a way to put a warped image to a raw emotion. "Damn, you were born to a legacy of hate." He was there before he realized it. The name Winchester glared from the label.

When John looked down, this alarmed child screamed, pleading for relief of some sort. Instead of the warped image John had created in his mind, there was an adorable child. Pain held to the sweet features and his breathing was hard from the perpetual wail. The boy suddenly hiccupped, sounding as if his lungs were in distress. Then a set of green accusatory eyes glared up at John. The pitch of the wail increased.

The young boy was petrified from fright. He looked up at John with his green eyes screaming for help. His little mouth was open slightly, but a mountain of noise spilled out. He looked like he wanted to tell John something but he couldn't find the words. There was such rage in boy. He seemed starved for something. The more John looked at the child the more he heard accusations in the scream. "Don't you dare turn away from me, you bastard!"

The baby shuddered and screamed- the voice so strong, desperate, raw and terrified. Then without warning John reached out and picked up the newborn. The infant wiggled around unhappily and kicked. John looked down at the baby with great concern. The baby's soft features furrowed into an expression aging way beyond his years

"Shhh...Why are you yelling?"

Then the boy stopped crying and the noise faded to a whimper. He stared at the man who held him expectantly, waiting for John to do something. Those eyes sized up the man and John knew there was no way the boy could not find him lacking.

John's thoughts raced. He realized how fragile his own emotions were and how shattered he was inside. He had harbored such hate for something so helpless and pained. "Don't look at me like that." He whispered. John felt hollow, like the baby reached inside of him and could name all the flaws. How could his soul be so disconnected? He held a child without any experience of the world understood loneliness so exquisitely he railed against it. The boy screamed "don't leave me" in that stare. When John stopped speaking, a loud sob started again from the child.

"Please doesn't cry…don't…" John hadn't touched a newborn baby ever, but it seemed like second nature now. He shook in shock. There was no way he felt something holding this child. How could he? He took his finger and traced it over a tiny hand and the small hand gripped at the finger for a second, discovering what a wonder a finger was. The child whimpered when John stopped moving the comforting touch. John had no power over his limbs and mind. Literally all of him was giving into something he didn't fully understand. He moved a thumb over the small chubby arm. As he did this the boy nuzzled and the eyes softened in a lighted happiness.

"Shhh… Shhh…" He calmed him and even the smallest of moans ceased. John smiled slightly, not realizing the sheer volume of emotions that welled inside of him and would soon smack him with the force of a hundred men. The boy stopped fussing and fidgeting, and peered curiously.

"You got him to stop…how?'

"I don't know… I really don't know..." John admitted, as he found a rocker and sat down with the small wonder in his arms. He rocked, trying to sooth the baby. He couldn't stop staring and the miracle in his arms. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he had never felt so amazed in his life. The boy looked up at him and a light shone in those eyes- one of pure unfiltered and unjaded love. John gasped, wondering how this boy could love him when he was there to give him away.

"Guess he needed his family." The nurse suggested.

There it was- the word that delivered a blow harder than any fist could- FAMILY! He could feel the tears streaming down his face and his body shook uncontrollably. He matched stares with the boy and allowed the feelings to crash over him. For every comfort he gave the boy, it came back in tenfold. The tiny baby filled with joy and gurgled.

Then love caught John, paralyzed him, and drew all the darkness out of him. The baby nestled tightly in John's arms and stirred just long enough to smile up. John stared at him in amazement and he became philosophical. The boy, he decided, symbolized a beginning and an ending. The 

beginning of a new life and the ending to all of the hate he had let fester inside for these many months.

The boy was beautiful. He wasn't sure if beautiful was the right word to describe a boy, but it felt right. The biggest green eyes reflected so much forgiveness and were so clear. The color reminded John of a lush green landscape overgrown by dandelion flecks. The boy gurgled and fussed a bit. Love…a boy that grew in such dire circumstances just oozed love. John kissed the baby's forehead and received a giggle in return.

He panicked, pushing back the tears. "No… you don't want us. You can't…"

The boy just giggled and chirped and made little spit bubbles. John wiped the small drool droplet. Then it was over. He didn't know how or why, but it just made sense. This wonderful child didn't scream in pain anymore, but babbled in joy. It just felt right and John caved, letting more tears stream, getting out all of the bitterness. "Okay, kid if we are going to do this right, you have got to eat for me, okay?" _DAMN IT. WHY ARE YOU WORRIED! HE'S NOT YOUR PROBLEM. _John thought, but his hand guided the bottle back to the unfed, cheerful boy.

"I can do that if you like….here," The nurse said, nudging the newborn from John's arm a bit. She seemed to have finished with the other baby and was ready to handle the now quiet screamer. The movement stirred the happiness away from the baby and he began to wail again. "Holy…"

"Let me." John offered and repositioned the boy. As soon as the baby nestled close to him, the quiet cooing returned. A couple of unsuccessful attempts later, John began to worry. "Kid, you have to eat." John squeezed the nipple and spilled a few drops on his finger. "Come on!" He rolled the liquid on the lower lip. His hoped soared when the baby at least smacked his lips. His hand guided the bottle back to the unfed boy. Still the baby cooed happily without care and without interest in food. John released more on his pinky and traced it on the boy's mouth again. Another loud smack, but he still refused the bottle. "GOD PLEASE…you have to eat or…"

Then all the arguments about how he could not possibly love this child pooled and moved away. "You sure about this, kid?" The child squealed happily. "Guess, he really does want a father."

"Seems to have taken a shine to you that's for sure." She allowed John to continue without interference.

He squeezed more formula on his finger and wetted the lip. The newborn responded smacking. John guided the bottle back, pleading for success. When the newborn accepted the bottle without any further fussing, John laughed. "Okay, there we go." The boy gulped at first. "Whoa, slow down. You got it." The boy looked up happily with wide eyes, finally eating and finally quiet. John just basked in the wave of feelings. The child he had been too eager to never see had fulfilled his soul like nothing he ever dreamed. "Hey, tell that social worker…. uh…. Agnes... We won't need her… I won't let him go…."

"You have such a way with him." The nurse responded. "I never seen such a thing in my life."

John smiled, letting the warmth in his arms fill every fiber of his being, rocking the chair to keep the boy content. "We'll it may just be me and you son, but I promise to try. Think you can love a salty old Marine?"

"You're going to be a wonderful parent"

John let the baby drain the bottle, listening to the gently sounds the boy was making. Small little muffled noises of pleasure and relief. The "thing" he imagined the boy to be was replaced so easily by the word "son" now. And it took no effort to love and be loved in return. He watched intently every small movement down to the how the boy blinked. When the meal was finished, John perched the boy against him and rubbed the small back gently. When burping had been accomplished John smiled again. "That's a good one. We'll drive Mary crazy!" Then he remembered the other part of this equation. No matter what happened with her, he had promised himself one thing. He was never surer. This boy is staying with me. He lowered the boy back into the cradle of his arm. "You ready to see your mom?"

"Sir, you can't take him like that! We have rules." The nurse protested when John got up.

"No way for you to stop me. I have to make things right. You want him wailing again?" That was more than enough to let John have his way. John tickled the belly of the baby that snuggled in his arms, a smile beaming on both faces. The small boy chirped in glee and thrashed in happiness. He put a fist in his mouth, covered it in saliva, and pulled it back out to examine his and. John laughed, "Just keep your foot out of there around girls and you'll be fine." John felt light and at ease.

John walked down the long hallway from the nursery, glancing from the child in his arms and staring at his feet as if the act of holding a baby would cause he legs to forget the basic function of walking. When he looked back to the baby, he saw that he was already asleep.

"Already nodded off. You're not giving up on my yet. We're going to have to work on patience with each other. What do you think?" John teased the sleeping boy.

He turned the corner, cleared his throat, and mentally prepared himself for an end to his relationship with Mary. He wasn't sure he could explain what had just happened to him, but there was no way he could abandon such joy.

Mary looked beyond tired and held one hand on her heart as if the was physically holding it within her chest. She stared distant out the window, watching storm clouds roll in and ignoring John who cleared his throat once more, but Mary spoke before he could. "It's over isn't it?" She asked with sadness.

"Mary… I can't…"

"He's gone… he's all alone out there….We'll never know what…" She sobbed openly. "What if they don't love him?... What… what if he's hurt and alone. He… he…"

"You can't hate him like you want to? Can you?"

"NO!" She screamed loudly, turning away further in shame. "Don't let… OH God."

"Mary? " John approached softly and said her name with more love and tenderness than he had for the past eight months. "Do you want to meet OUR son?"

A sob caught in her throat and she turned expectantly with a hint of shock. "Our…" The word came out strangely in wonderment as if some part of her had surely heard that word wrong. However, no amount of disbelief stopped her arms from jutting out, reaching for the bundle in John's arm. "It's…. it's him?'

"I can't explain it, but…..here… hold him….maybe that will explain everything. "

John transferred the baby easily, but the move still woke the sleeping child. She was afraid the baby might cry but he didn't. The newborn stared up almost fascinated by the two faces staring down at him. Suddenly, a joyous laugh chirp erupted from him. Mary burst into tears and hugged the bundle tightly, mumbling small word of apology and kissing the baby's face until not an area remained uncomforted. When she let him swing back into a full extended position, the newborn seemed to yawn and nod back to happy sleep.

John bent down and kissed the newborn's forehead. "He's perfect…loving… how did he…when we were so…"

"I don't know, but he is so beautiful. John, what should…"

"Love him and raise him. And we should give him a name. Can't just be called kid or baby all his life."

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah ever since I was lucky enough to hold the sweetest baby in the history of the world." John said. You?" Mary nodded and smiled. John stroked the small mess of hair on the boy's head. Then he put both hands on either side of Mary' face and pulled her in a kiss. When their lips met, all the worries disappeared for the time and they were completely bathed in bliss. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but of forgiveness and healing. Finally they stopped and John smiled. "Always wanted to call my son Dean Harley."

"It's beautiful, but we can try to have one of our own..."

"Nope. He's my first." John corrected.

"Yes, he is." Mary smiled. "Dean Harley… a loving sounding name for one so full of love."

"Even when you don't deserve that kind of forgiveness. Damn, I hope I can do right by him." John stressed, nervous for the first time of measuring up to what he felt the boy had given him.

"Just love him- remember what you just said." She watched as a small chest rose and fell gently. Her sweet voice began to hum and then she began to sing.

"Sleep little baby sweet.

Sweet little baby sleep.

Dream of sweet tomorrows

Tomorrow's big dreams

So, sleep little baby sweet

Sweet baby Sleep."

John kissed Mary's forehead. ""Dean Harley Winchester meet your Mom and Dad…..He's going to kill the ladies… James Dean and Harley Davidson."

Mary laughed for the first time that John could remember. "You did not just name OUR SON after an actor and motorcycle."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay I couldn't resist the middle name. It was too much fun. I mean: A rebel actor, a motorbike, and a gun for a last name. Seemed to fit with the Dean-like theme. It is me, I can't live by angst alone and it amused me so. Of course I am amused by shiny things too…I may not be a good meter on amusement. LOL! Sorry Dean! I had to! LOL! Oh for the record: Samuel Davidson Winchester- got to have the pair don't we. And just for my pal Carol: No cliff hanger this time. (Plus writing the baby stuff makes me all teary eyed. I'm a wimp!)**


	10. Confession

_**Author's note: Whew… okay… so writing five stories and a novel at the same time is exhausting….but totally fun. (Wish me extra luck with the novel. Dang it! I wish I could quit my job and do this stuff full-time) Anyway, enough of my whine and on with the story. Here is a quick chapter. Can't leave Dean on his own for too long! Enjoy.**_

**-x-x-xx-x-xx-**

And my words will be here when I'm gone  
As I'm fading away against the wind  
And the words you left me linger on  
As I'm failing again now, never to change this

And I'm sympathetic,  
never letting on I feel the way I do  
As I'm falling apart again at the seam

**Sympathetic- Seether**

.

"I love you, Dean. Never doubt that." John whispered. "You were a light in the darkest of times for me- always. You healed two very broken people before you even knew what the word broken meant. I know you hate everything right now… me…yourself…."

"Don't…" Dean forced out.

"I have to. Dean, you're my son. FOREVER. It's okay to hate me, but it's okay to have some love for me too. Stop thinking I am more than just a human being. I messed up more times than I can count. You know how they say life flashes before your eyes when you die. Lies….you don't see your life… you just see your regrets. Like how I never told you how proud I am of the man you are or all the times I should have said thank you. You know why I gave you my guns, my car, my jacket? Cause I wanted so much to be a part of who you were. I wanted to give you anything that showed you…" John faltered, his faced drawn with love and sadness. "I wanted you to have tokens. I loved those things so much and thought… thought it showed you how much you meant. But, it didn't…and I missed that you needed more than a car. You needed a kind word from me. And when I died it was the biggest cosmic karma bitch smack. I should have done more, said things, but…I didn't… I have a multitude of reasons for being closed off…but not one is good enough. I've done so much wrong…. And I can't fix that now. I wish I could. Just know I'll always be a part of you. "

"But you're not!" Dean cried and his voice cracked with all the emotions he had inside of him. A tear streamed down his face. When he sucked in a breath, it pulled in as if the air itself was crawling out of his throat. He grew quiet, whether it was the thin air or his sorrow, he couldn't scream anymore. Instead, he just moaned out the next words. "And… and I want you to be." He cried now, just a few tears, begging John to make it true.

"You are mine. You hear me. You may not have got some genetic code in your body or some strand, but you are MINE! You hear me. You don't have to claim to me. You're old enough to decide on your own. I know what I would like to hear, but I don't expect it from you. You may not claim to have part of me, but I have a part of you. I carry my love for you…." John cracked. I carried it for so long…" John wept now. "My precious boy….I wish I could give you the life you needed. Just one day… I carried the hope you gave me every day of my life. You were always a part of me… the better part."

Dean tried to speak, but his lungs ached. The pain from his wound seemed more acute. "Dad? Dad, something's wrong…I feel."

"Shh... okay… just breathe for me. "

When Dean tried to comply, his lungs couldn't grasp what was almost scarce. He was running out of time. "Dad?" He mumbled weakly.

"Thanks for that."

"What…..wwh?"

"For calling me Dad. Can you hold on for me? I have to leave you for a bit…"

"Dd…Don't…"

"Just for a minute, but I'll be back. You just have to stay awake. Then, I'll stay until this is all over."

"Dad? Sam….he's going to be okay? ….. he's…"

"He'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

"If I die… and they…they take…me…they…"

"You're not dying now. You hear me. And if they even get you into hell, I'll come for you. I'll crawl back into whatever pit I have to. You got it."

"You…you can't stop deal... Sam...welch..."

""You think I still don't break the rules? Never followed many in life, won't stop now. Relax and just breathe easy. I'll be back before you know it."

"No…no…"

"I have to… its getting too close now. You need help. Going to break a few rules right now."

Before Dean could protest anymore, the crypt returned to darkness. The light that his father heralded into the crypt was gone. Dean sucked in a hard breath, trying to keep his air intake calm and even. "Hurry, Dad… I don't… want to die alone…." His fingers tapped out a beat to some rock song in an attempt to ward off sleep.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-**

Aching, splitting fingers dripped crimson, but he didn't care if every nail he had ripped off in the debris and dirt. More rips slashed into his red, blistered, and bloody fingertips when he dug into shards of glass, but there was a hand sticking out from the debris. "BOBBY! ALLY! I have someone…hurry." Sam dug furiously, letting his bare hands take abuse to get to the trapped man. It was a man…a man's hand. Dean's hand he told himself. This was it. He was so close, he could feel it.

Ally and Bobby joined on either side of Sam. Bobby began to evacuate the new found tornado victim, while Ally uncovered more of the hand to get to the wrist to evaluate the man's condition.

"HOLD ON, DEAN!" Sam screamed, digging almost blindly now.

When Ally freed most of the arm, she found no pulse, but worse the hand was stiff and rigid. "Sam, stop. He's dead. Rigor Mortis."

"No, he's not DEAD!" Sam worked harder, more frantic.

"Son, stop it! You're just hurting yourself." Bobby grabbed one of Sam's arms and he was rewarded with a shove.

"STOP IT!" Ally screamed, grabbing Sam now. For a second, Bobby thought Sam would shove her off too, but Sam's respect for the woman stopped that idea. Besides, Sam didn't get much choice in the matter, as Ally hugged Sam so tightly the next second. She held the young man tightly, trying to absorb some of the emotion exploding from him.

Sam grabbed Ally's shirt so tightly and pulled her to him, trying to release the pent up rage and pain. Bobby let the doctor comfort his friend as he continued to dig. As he unburied the face, he couldn't help to feel happiness when an older face stared blankly at him and then a smidge of guilt filled him for being relieved at another's death. "It's not Dean. We'll keep looking."

"Too long now! He could be anywhere…. Could be..." Sam startled when Ally pushed back and grabbed his face to look into hers.

Bobby felt a strange vibe growing "I'm going back to that section. There seems to be a basement in that building… "

Sam wasn't listening. Neither was Ally. All he could do was beg for help with his eyes and all she could do was reassure him with hers. They stayed like that for a while. Sam anchored to her calm and tried to be rational, but Dean's time was so short, how could he be reasonable. Before he could respond or think anymore, he felt a sensation on his lips. It took him a moment to realize Ally was kissing him. He wanted to push her away, but he couldn't. Damn, he needed it-now more than ever. He let go and his lips followed hers. Yeah, he had liked her, but this was the furthest things from his mind. For a good minute nothing but the sensation of soft lips caressing occurred. Sam let himself get lost in that relief, happy to let it go on forever. There was not pain in this, not worries.

It was Ally who finally pulled away. "OH GOD! Sorry, I … stupid…stupid… I have the worse timing… I'm sorry…I just… damn it… I'm…." She got up and fled as if she had committed the worse sin ever.

Bewildered by Ally's sudden kiss and her now obvious awkwardness, Sam stared off blankly. Sam's frustration still bubbled at the surface, but the occurrence held him in confusion for a moment.

When Bobby heard Ally kick her tire, cursing her stupidity and morbid sense of timing, he chuckled. When he glanced at the perplexed state on Sam's face, he almost laughed. He crossed over to his young hunter friend, thinking of words of reassurance.

"What…just happened?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Don't look at me, kid. I don't know why any women would like either of you knucklehead brothers. Don't ask me to explain it."

"Bobby…." Sam said in a guilty tone.

"OH... don't even feel bad about that happening. She's liked you since she met you in that tent. And given how we stressed all are…"

"But, I can't lose focus… not now."

"Hell! The one thing I'm sure of… no matter where Dean is right now…. He's damn proud of you for that one."

Sam snorted a laughed and managed a smile. "Yeah…. He would…"

"So, you ready to keep going…"

"Yeah…may need to get us some flashlights to keep searching but I am not giving up. Dean has to be…" Sam stopped, noticing a figure standing a league away at the turn of a gravel path. For a moment, he told himself that it couldn't be who he thought. He was seeing things- surely he was. But the image was so clear and it was beckoning him. "Dad?" He had just spoken when the image disappeared.

**x-xx-x-xx-xx-x-x-xx-**


	11. Man in the Box

**In my shoes  
A walking sleep  
And my youth  
I pray to keep  
Heaven send  
Hell away**

**Black Hole Sun****-****Soundgarden**

* * *

"Sam? You okay? I know you're exhausted, but calling John. We've been at this for a while, and I'm not suggestin' we give up the search, but…"

"Bobby…..I….I swear …..I thought I saw Dad over there… I'm freakin' losing it…He was…"

"What was he doing?"

"I think he wanted me to come to him. I…. Damn, I am losing my mind!"

"Ally!" Bobby yelled. "You said this was the last block with a structure that would provide shelter… what's beyond?"

"You believe me?" Sam questioned.

With one look Bobby conveyed a sense of you have to be kidding me after all I've seen in life I would believe in the tooth fairy if you said so. "What kinda terrain do we have beyond the town limits?"

Her face still red and embarrassed, she glanced at Bobby for a second, but answered with her head down. "Fields…farm land…..uh… the old graveyard….uh… a pond…"

"Graveyard?"

"You don't think he would go…"

"Seems like a place Dean would be." Bobby reminded.

"Wait…I just kissed a guy, whose brother would hang in a graveyard!? Sadly, that's not the strangest thing I have ever heard. My life is so screwed up!"

"Not as much as you think. Is there any shelter out there?" Sam laughed, he felt closer than ever now.

"No, just graves and the dead."

Bobby gave her a look that said for the love of all things decent give Sam a bit of hope that Dean isn't in this rubble. "Worth a look at least."

"Yeah... yeah... oh yeah." Ally changed her tune, thinking what could it hurt. "There is a keepers house up there... shack with lawn equipment. Could be a possibility..." I hope not, she added under her breathe, thinking the shack was a little more than two-by-fours and tin. That would not be a good hiding place for anyone.

"Come on, Sammy boy. Let's get at it." Bobby nudged.

-xx-xx-x-xx-x-x-x-

* * *

When the trio pulled off of the rough gravel path to the first row of tombstones, the vacant land of the dead appeared to be in worse shape than the buildings in the small town.

"Damn!" Sam said, looking concerned. He was scared and glanced over at Bobby to find some sort of encouragement. He opened his mouth and a voice came out that wasn't a whisper, but it wasn't a proper voice either. Fear breaking up Sam's words like twigs and leaves underfoot. The voice of a lost brother sounded like a strangled crippled animal with bones rubbing jagged against each other. "...This had to be ground zero for the tornado."

So much for the idea of giving Sam hope, Bobby and Ally thought. It was obvious that Sam's mind had sprouted into a plethora of morbid ideas. Starting from the smallest shred of doubt, the fears sprouted scenarios that grew and gathered a momentum of their own. In turn the thoughts developed in sturdy shapes, unfolding to a list of unwanted possibilities.

"This is as far as Betsy will go." Ally stated, tapping her steering wheel. Her voice was less to protest the capabilities of the Hummer to plow onward thru the destruction, than to say something that would break the tension of the moment. She was disappointed in her last effort to help. Inwardly, she told herself "Great Job! You kissed a man that is facing a potential great loss who was grieving. So, what if you liked him?! Great timing. Probably thinks you are nut job desperate clock ticking single white female!" For the moment, she figured she was ill equipped to help even if she wanted to let her own stress seek a moment of relief. She shuffled uncomfortably. "We'll have to search on foot, grab a light and let's get at it."

"Dean!" The cabin of the hummer filled with Sam's voice well before his brother could even possibly hear. Sam yelled again as he swung out of the Hummer. "DEAN!"

Soon Bobby and Ally joined in, screaming a name in vain for a man that did not answer. Some men found that their senses were quickened while under stress of danger. Sam never though he was that type. He didn't enjoy the rush of battle at all. He enjoyed this even less.

He closed his eyes, blinking as Ally's flash light flickered straight into his eyes when the woman did a wide sweeping arch of the ground. His mind opened to him, giving him an image of his brother and father together. There was a panic and peace in this. Panic that Dean had joined their father among the dead, but peace that Dean wasn't facing any of this alone. It felt like his old special kid visions, but that was over he told himself.

In the confusion of noise, flashing lights, and the stink of things he'd rather not think about, he returned to the present, noticing the light in his face was no longer Ally's, but a news helicopter swinging overhead.

"Damn, buzz flies." Bobby commented. "Like a bunch of buzzards after a piece of pain."

"Yeah...alot of help they are!" Sam said with bitterness. His eyes drew to the sky, yet it wasn't the chopper he noticed when he flicked his head up to quickly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed him. There was no fear, just a sense of awe. "There! Look BOBBY!" Sam yelled as his finger pointed to a collapsed crypt. The image of John stood over crypt that had a couple of walls layered over the upright ones, all buried in mess of dirt and rock.

The image flickered as all three rescuers looked through the image. "HOLY DAMN SHIT!" Ally yelled, paling to an alabaster white.

"Shit is right!" Bobby added, but the image faded again. "Get us something to dig with!" Bobby yelled at Ally.

"What the hell was that..." she shook.

"We don't have time to explain, just keep it together and we'll try to..." He grabbed her shoulders and shook harder than he meant to, but Bobby winked at her with a smile when she looked up.

"I'm not sure I want to know. After all the strange shit I've seen…this… this is the top…" She flicked her head, thinking fatigue had to be the reason for what she witnessed. Still the skills of a doctor, lead her to calm. "Keep talking… see if you can get an answer….." she instructed, still pale, but able to take charge of her faculties in order to save a life. She radioed the base of operations. "I have a man trapped in a crypt at Howle cemetery. Do we have any transports…." Her voice faded as she rummaged in her Hummer for tools.

"DAD! It was Dad."

"I know... I..."

"He's in here... Dean hold on... were coming." Sam had already started digging with his hands, his fingers tunneling into the mud and rocks, desperately scratching inches of the separating barrier blocking his brother.

Bobby did the same, keeping up with his younger counterpart on gusto alone. "Hold on, kiddo... we're up here. HOLD ON!"

Sam's flashlight went out, but he just kept going until he heard a weak moan, or he thought he did, coming from below. "DEAN!" He screamed, his hands digging faster.

-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-x

* * *

"Hey, kiddo…look at me…open your eyes." John coaxed.

Dean blinked a few times. "Ummmmm..."

"Come on now, you can do better… Open your eyes." In the small space his father's voice boomed through, loud and clear as ever.

"Come on, son. Wake up." John said softly. When he got no response he made his tone more of a commanding one, "Dean! Wake up now."

The need to comply triggered in Dean's brain "Daddy..."

"I'm here. I promised...remember?"

Shaking his head, Dean appeared to bask in some eternal innocence. John smile. "That's my boy. You're so much stronger than me. You just hold on and Sam and Bobby will be here soon."

Dean's free hand reached out, seeking John.

The action panged the spirit. "I wish I could hold you. Give you comfort, I'd give anything to have you close to me so you would know I was really here. Hey…" John said, shifting positions as if he were lying next to his son. "How's that...huh... see me..."

When Dean nodded quietly and blinked sleepily, John smiled. "You know when Sam left, I use to wake up at night and watch you sleep. Sounds crazy..."

Dean nodded no again.

"I just had to make sure you were there and I hadn't lost you too. I was so stupid to let Sam go and I thought one day you would follow." John finally admitted to himself that he hadn't really expected Dean to come back either. "I heard you sneak out the night Sam left, you went to get him didn't you. Just one last thing to do for him. I know you drove him to Sanford that night. You couldn't let him face the road alone…I admire you for that. When I woke up later and you weren't there… I thought…"

"I'm cold . . ." Dean spoke through jittered breaths like he might be talking through sobs. "Can't breathe..." Dean slipped in and out of foggy thoughts.

"I know… I know… easy now." That's when he noticed the rise and fall of Dean's shoulders, his lungs still seeking breath. "That a boy!"

John nodded. "Wasn't fair of me to take stuff out on you. I'm sorry if said anything to make you feel like I don't appreciate you sticking around. I did. We all could retreat into ourselves and shut out everything when the world got to be too crazy, and our world tended to get scary crazy more too damn often. Just didn't have a clue how to make it better."

"Okay...it's..."

"Shh... hey, who is here for who? I came to help you, not the other way around. Guess you can't change who you are, can you? You always were there for us all. You made it easy for me to trust you. I had to keep my eyes open at all times or I wouldn't have made it. But, I could breathe easy when I had you around. You made it all look so seamless and cohesive. The world was falling apart and you could always find a way to mend some part of it. There was always some 

madness going on, and whether I liked it you boys were involved... a causality in spirit if not physically. There's no choice. You can't sit and wait for things to come to you."

"Dad...Dad..."

"Right here buddy. Take a breath and listen to my voice. Don't you fade out on me."

Dean's head lobbed to the side and his eyelids fluttered. There he was, a man in the confusion of lack of air and emotion. Hell, he didn't even know how bad his injury was, but it hurt like a mother now. "Dad pain..."

"I know... it's not that bad. You've had way worse, but the alcohol in your system has well worn off. Stinks like a bitch does it."

"I can't... can't..."

"You can."

But, Dean had no more heart for the game. He wanted to crawl in his father's arms and be safe and warm. He struggled with the increasing realization that his body was no good for anything and no amount of desire would help him. After a few minutes, he did get an inch closer and propped his head on a mound of dirt to be face to face with his father.

"Easy...easy...I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."

"Huh" Dean snorted softly. "...you don't... sound...so con…" There was a terrible change that had come over him. He neither stirred nor cried, but every line of his body had altered. He looked suddenly stricken, shrunken, immensely old, as though the frightful impact of seeing death had paralyzed him.

"Hey, you listen to your father! I say it's all okay and it will be. Don't make me whup you. You aren't big enough..." John sparked trying desperately to not sound worried.

"Dad?" Dean whispered. "I'm sor..."

"No...Never be sorry." John softened. "Dammit, hold on." Dean wasn't going to make this one thing be easy. Just this once Dean was taking center stage and made John frightened and proud all at once. "You more than have a right to every thought and feeling you ever had."

"But... I lo..." He gasped, giving himself up to a full, rich recognition of the danger and hopelessness of his position.

"Shhh...I know... I love you too...shh..."

When his son' head flopped again dizzly, John startled. "Hurry, Sammy... hurry."

Dean gasped suddenly, arching his shoulders. His eyes rolled backwards and found the sweet sensation of darkness.


	12. Lost and Found

Your words to me just a whisper  
Your face is so unclear  
I try to pay attention  
Your words just disappear  
cause its always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said  
So I speak to you in riddles  
cause my words get in my way.  
I smoke the whole thing to my head  
And feel it wash away  
cause I can't take anymore of this,  
I want to come apart,  
Or dig myself a little hole  
Inside your precious heart  
cause its always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said  
I am nothing more than  
A little boy inside  
That cries out for attention,  
Yet I always try to hide  
cause I talk to you like children,  
Though I don't know how I feel  
But I know I'll do the right thing  
If the right thing is revealed

**Staind -Epiphany**

* * *

Sinking like quicksand, he felt his body move without his own thoughts driving him. Falling maybe, but going nowhere. Was this it? Was this the pathway to hell? When distant hands gripped onto Dean, he freaked just about as much as the night his mother died. They had come for him- Hell-they were here. He struggled, trying to whip his possessors off with one flailing arm. No advantage came to him as he was pushed back. It felt like he was being forced in a direction, while he crawled for hallowed ground.

His mouth was covered, an obstacle placed to steal his scream. A burst of cold filled his lungs, sharp, bitter and stinging. He tossed harder with more urgency in his movements, but his captors didn't budge. They just pinned him and moved 

him at their will. He just knew they were going to drag him to Hell and he never got to tell Sam goodbye. He just wanted to say one last word to him- a kind one- any word as long as it wasn't bitter.

"Stop…" A voice demanded next to his ear.

"He's quite a fighter." a softer voice echoes with a slight indication of being impressed.

"Hell yeah…" A third joined. There was an indication of pride in the tone, but also a pleading. "Dean...kid, hey….come on…..you're making this harder. Save that energy."

"Dean, come on...Man, wake up."

He half expected it to be his father calling to him, but the tone was lighter and more shaken. When he heard the refrain repeat a call to him, his eyes flickered. His hand gripped something as if he were nervous about something.

"Dean? Look at me... Calm down...I know it's hard." Sam piped up crouched down next to his brother. He had dug a groove to support his brother against him.

Hearing Sam's voice seemed to help somewhat and Dean's eyes fluttered for a bit before opening and looking at the tiny group with unfocused eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but an influx of oxygen was being forced to him through a mask.

"There you go. Thought we were going to have to find some car magazines to whiff under your nose to get you to respond" Bobby joked, while he pinned Dean's shoulders to restrict his movement. "We need to check you out, you just lay back and let the doc do her work."

"If he trashes again, keep him from hurting himself. Another team is on its way to extract him. At least we are gaining some light. Damn flashlights are used up."

Shreds of morning light flipped through the crypt as the excavation had removed an entire wall. Sam had fought so hard to get here that daylight had snuck up on them all. While the outside opened up the possibility of fresh air, Sam held the oxygen firm. How long Dean had breathed in the poisonous carbon filled air was more than enough reason to play it safe.

Dean's hand arched up to the plastic covering his nose and mouth. This wasn't Hell, but he had to say it now, say that one word. His fingers curled around a hand holding precious air in place and he nudged it.

"It's only air... Breathe." Sam's hand didn't budge.

Dean went completely limp and Sam stationed Dean's head firmly above his knee, trying to get his brother comfortable.

"He's going to be okay." Bobby reassured Sam.

Again, Dean moved his arm, trying to get access to speak. A sense of begging could be seen under several bruises and cuts pasted upon the freckled pale complexion.

"Hey, if you want to punch us when you get out of here then there's plenty of time... Take it easy for now." Bobby suggested, thinking they didn't part on the best terms.

Yet, Dean didn't stop trying. He had to tell his brother and friend something first. If he died right now, they had to know how he felt. There was so much, but he didn't really know what to say. His hand went up to the mask giving him fresher air and his fingers pawed endless at it. Finally, Sam removed the mask and let Dean mouthed inaudible words, but only two were clear whispers. "I'm sorry…"

Sam gulped, crunching his teeth together to keep from breaking into heightened and overworked emotions. "It's okay…You don't…" Sam put the mask back in place, refusing to inflict any new wounds on this day. Dean had suffered enough. He held Dean so that his brother's shoulder was against the area above his knee, where he could clasp his hand loosely around Dean's shoulder and speak words of comfort to him.

Dean leaned back into his little brother's warmth and relaxed more as he heard Sam's voice roll around his eardrum. He was surprised to hear such raw concern in his brother's voice but he let it warm his heart, giving him some sense of being loved. Because right now he wasn't feeling too great any place else.

Ally and Bobby had almost cleared the dirt below a section of the slab. They would need some leverage soon. When they dug another hand full, they noticed a mark of blood on a fallen block. More blood followed, in a small pool. The area 

excavated on Dean's side was wide enough to see his boot sticking out, but his body sprawled under a slab sheet of marble and twisted just beyond view.

"God…is he…"

"Dean? Can you tell me where it hurts?" Ally asked, not really expecting a straight answer.

Dean flopped his head and started to slip out of Sam's grip, but Sam wouldn't yield and his brother's support remained constant.

Alley shifted some dirt under the slab, and followed the wetness to the source. When she found a tender spot, Dean tried to shift to avoid the pain. "Okay, there we go… Right there. Let's make this fast and easy, alright?" She glanced at Dean. "Dean? Can you hear me…I'm going to give you something for the pain- a local… I need to you to stay awake and stop fighting us. Fight to stay awake, but let us work."

"He's not entirely with us," Bobby reminded.

"Any small amount of cooperation will help." She grabbed the radio. "Base... Base... I need that transport now. I have a man trapped under a slab of marble in the cemetery. Need EVAC NOW!"

Static spilled over her walkie talkie. "Recover 13, evacs station at civic center. Multiple survivors. No transport available. Closest is 20 minutes in route. Status please."

"Ahh... fuc..." She started. "Base… move your ass! Okay, Dean… let's get you to taken care of." She pulled items from her emergency kit and soon took out a sharp looking needle. "Keep him focused on you... I have very little room to get this to him."

With one look, Sam anchored calm as if he could send the thought to his brother to cooperate.

Dean intended to object. The pain filled him when Ally's hand guided under the marble. As a needle drew near, he swung his arm until he looked up into his Sam' exhausted face. Time stood still. He glanced at Bobby, who looked so tired and in need of rest. As Ally inserted the sharp point, Dean stopped moving and let the rush of no pain flip through him.

"That'a boy. Feels betters…" Bobby said, letting Dean see some patience and calm in his face, whether he really felt it or not. "We'll get you out of here and back in action before you know it."

"You're sure, he's going to be OK!" Sam asked, his concern for his brother clear to see.

"I'm doing my best. Keep him alert if you can." Alley offered.

Sam nodded, feeling a bit of a heel for jumping at her like that, but he wouldn't apologize for his worry about Dean. "Damn it! This is taking too long! We need help to get this off of him and get him out of here."

"Base…base…" Ally started.

"Oh, to hell with base. Shit fire and taters!" Bobby jumped up, moving in a run as if he were at least 20 years younger.

"BOBBY!"

"Where's he going?" Ally puzzled.

"Doing what he does best, saving us." Sam smiled.

* * *

The news chopper floated above the graveyard, hanging in morbid curiosity and waiting for some glimpses of rancid photography to splash to the masses around the world. At first Bobby tried to wave them down, but the camera focused only on the scene of graveyard and the three people digging there.

"DAMN IT!" Bobby bent down and found a stone, lobbing it at the hovering beast. There was plenty of ammo at his disposal and that sucker was coming down. Again and again he hailed loose stones at the beast until the pilot's red angry face flashed like a hot tamale set on fire.

As the bird set down, it looked like the pilot may throttle Bobby or even angle the spinning blades to take revenge for the rock toss, while one occupant of the helicopter seemed more interested in getting a news blurb.

"Shut that crap off. I have a man down there that needs help..."

"You have some brass don't you..." A taller and more muscular man said, heaving the camera from his shoulders.

"Veteran?"

"Been a solider more than most of my life." Bobby admitted.

"Green Beret myself. Thompson..." The man extended his hand. "Whatcha need us to do."

"Transport and more muscle would help."

"Greg...David... get the equipment off the chopper, then get your cans down that hole." The other men looked confused. "You heard me…MOVE!"

* * *

**3 days later...**

Dean's eyes rolled open, seeing the same faces staring at him as they had been for the last few days. Somehow the phrase "I'm alright" didn't have meaning to Sam and Bobby right now.

"You going to apologize again? You may break a record soon." Bobby smiled.

Dean couldn't help it, his heart really wasn't in much, but he didn't want Bobby and Sam to know. Somehow, "I'm sorry" and "I'm alright" were the songs stuck on Dean's repeat."

"I think this hospital is getting you lazy. You haven't slept this much since..."

"The wondertwins" Sam added, hoping for something, looking for Dean to fill a void.

"Good times... good times..?" Dean smarted, telling himself to hold it all in.

"I'd say he's on his way to a full recovery." Ally offered as she came into his room.

"CAN I GET OUT OF HERE!? DOC PLEASE!"

"Not that you will listen to what I say, but I think you should..."

"Get dressed, leave...have a great life..."

"He's not going to listen to me at all is he, Sam?"

"Uh...sure...well...no... NO... not really." Sam looked distantly. He stood like a cement statue at a museum, not moving as he eyeballed Dean for signs that things would get better. His brown hair stands up slightly on his head from sleeping in the hospital chairs.

"I'll get you discharged." Ally informed Sam and not Dean. She beamed as she turned to leave.

His expression frozen in a lost of what to say to make the knowledge of Dean's lineage go away, Sam didn't notice the subtle way Ally flirted with him.

Inside Dean read the agony inside his brother and he had to do something for Sam. His pain would not be Sam's pain. After all, he had protected him when they were children and stopping now was like asking Dean not to breathe. Instead, he knew the right words of comfort for this situation and when Ally left it was the perfect timing.

A laugh slipped from Dean's lips. "Okay... I'm just going to point out the 8000 pound Godzilla in the room, but... uh...What's up with the doc, Sammy?!"

"Nothing...just... a bad situation... and it was ill timed... and..."

"Hold on... you didn't."

"NO!"

"Close." Bobby offered, picking up the seemingly improvement in Dean's demeanor.

"Nothing happened."

"You kissed." Bobby tattled.

"She kissed me... It was just stress."

"Wait... oh... wait... you kissed her and didn't get action... What have I taught you?"

"It wasn't like that. We were looking for you."

"Hold up. You took time to kiss some chic as I ran out of air and bled all over the place."

"Don't make it sound like that."

"We'll did you kiss her or not... Dude, I was dying and you..."

"I was losing my mind... Wait... you're..." Sam laughed. "Are you messing with me?"

"Pretty much..."

"Why am I not surprised."

"Hey Sammy?"

"What?"

"I have never been more proud of ya. Dude, I was beginning to wonder if I got all the charm in the family."

"I don't think you have much to say about skirt chasing."

"I have the perfect right. Got to get my little bro to follow in my footsteps."

Little bro- the words echoed in Sam's head and he smiled. His posture loosened and suddenly a weight was lifted.

"Now, if you don't mind. I would love to get out of here!"

"Bobby, can you handle getting him checked out, I'll get the car."

"Hey, how is the car? You didn't let that storm…"

"The car is the only thing that didn't get hurt in this…..well there was a scratch, but you can cry over that later…" Sam bantered back, excited there was hope that 

Dean would be back to his boisterous self soon. He smiled again before he took off down the hallway.

"Good to see you feeling better. We were worried about you, kiddo."

Suddenly, the grin Dean had plastered on for Sam's benefit faded. The smile had left his eyes. The portals spark free and dull.

"Dean?"

"Bobby…I'm not okay."

"Son, it's over."

"It's not. I have unfinished business. Answers I need. And I'm going alone."

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: One more big angst filled chapter to go and this one is done. The big bang, Kleenex box ending finish that inspired the whole story is happening in the final chapter (Coming soon). Hope it is worth the wait over this weekend.** _

* * *


	13. Bottle open

In my silence I would love to forget

But restitution hasn't come quite yet

And with one accord I keep pushing forth

I stretch my heart to heal some more

It used to be all I'd want to learn

Was wisdom trust and truth

But now all I really want to learn

Is forgiveness for you

As my seasons change I've now grown to know

When one's heart creates, one's soul doesn't owe

So I wash away stains of yesterday

Then tempt my heart with love's display

**COLLECTIVE SOUL LYRICS-Forgiveness**

* * *

"Don't torture yourself. This isn't your fault. A few good beers and a few demon notches on your gun and things will be more clear." Bobby reasoned.

"I appreciate the thought, but I have to know something. Down in that place, things were...were..."

"Had too much time to think." Bobby read Dean's thoughts. Just one look on his friend's face and he knew the fears bubbling just below. "Do you think Sam looks at you differently?"

"I look at me differently. How can he…"

"You know he told that doc all about you. How great his big brother was- selfless, honorable..."

"Sam said that?"

"Sometimes you boys are dense as redwood. Just think about it. Be a shame to self destruct when you have such admiration. Maybe you should wonder why we think so much of you. And it's not just your brother." Bobby stared pointedly at Dean, driving the sentiment that he would stand through this with them.

"Maybe, but I still need answers and I don't know if I want to shar..."

"Then we'll be close when and if you do. Now, get dress you lunkhead. I'll go get release papers rushed."

"Yeah... yeah… I..." He said absently.

"See you in a few..." Bobby nodded with a polite and heart wrenching smile, a bit lost on how to snap Dean out of this funk. Dean had every right to feel a bit like a fish floundering on a sidewalk. "We'll have your back."

As Dean watched his friend leave, he couldn't help feeling he had let both Sam and Bobby down. He was grateful that he had them to lean on, but wasn't equipped to share any kind of pain with anyone. He was the big brother, he still had that...well half of that...if Sam wanted him to be, but things were different.

He changed into the fresh clothes hanging in the hospital closet and swung his necklace over his head until it thumped next to heart. His wallet slid uneasily into his blue jeans, the wad of bills from his pool hustling still brimming over. Maybe Bobby was right, a night of good old fashioned Miller time with the boys would do him some good and he had the funds to make it a blowout.

He rushed out of his room, not waiting for Sam or Bobby to return. He would find them first. One thing about being trapped in a confined area made you crave open spaces and movement. Aimlessly, he moved through the hallways, still cluttered with more survivors- people in need after the tornado had destroyed their lives too. Strange, that his world was destroyed well before the storm hit. He only wished his father would have really been in that crypt to say those words to him. Sam and Bobby would surely think he was delirious. He thought the same after all, but he ached for it to be true. If only his so called adoptive father had really come to him- that would really mean John was his Dad and the man might have really cared.

Without realizing it, Dean walked down the hallway as if he was following a sound that his ears picked up, but his conscious mind wouldn't register. Before he knew it, he was standing in from of the nursery window, looking down at a screaming baby. For the longest time, he stared at her and listened to the horrible injured sound coming from her small ruby lips.

The single nurse inside rushed about, trying to hold the department on her own as other nurses were obviously dealing with the aftermath of destruction. Just then an alarm sounded further down the hallway. Several people scrambled, including the pediatric nurse who popped out of the nursery, sprinted towards the sound, and left the door unguarded.

He knew he shouldn't. There had to be rules about who was allowed in, but he couldn't help himself. Normally, security might have been on him like flies, but the mass level of injuries let cracks in protocols become caverns. No one noticed a broken man going for the nursery door.

Carefully, he opened the door, letting the latch fall away gently. Drifting more than walking, he found his way above the baby he watched just beyond the glass, his finger reaching out as if she were glass herself. He moved one finger over her belly, just like John used to do to him at bedtime. She giggled just like Dean would have and the she grew quiet as if she was inspecting the man comforting her.

The little girl's blonde hair look like it was from the sun with matching eyebrows that faded into her skin almost like a polar bear would blend into the snow. The baby wiggled and kicked her covers off. She kicked her legs again and wiggled her fat little body around to get a better look at Dean.

Her apricot skin, like the color of beach sand, glowed. She flapped her arms, squealed a silly baby giggle, and then gave Dean the biggest toothless smile she could manage.

Dean laughed and smiled back, his self-doubt and pain eased for the moment. He lifted the sweet baby into his arms, giving the child a warm loving hung as he did. He moved back and forth a bit and couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He didn't even notice as Sam passed by the nursery window looking for his missing brother. Sam barely caught Dean in the corner of his eye, but the view made him do a double take and freeze. Just inside his brother was affected by something profoundly and he didn't understand how a baby could cause such a reaction in Dean. He wanted to go to him, but he heard a whisper in his ear. "Leave him be" it whispered. "Dad?" Sam asked, but found no sight of the man who led him back to Dean earlier. For once, Sam didn't argue the order, but kept a close eye on his brother through the glass.

Dean rocked the child in his arms, watching the way her soft mop of hair stood up like uncut grass, which someone tried to restrain with a pink ribbon. She cooed, her mouth looking like it was ready to talk away. Her little legs and toes just waiting to kick, scamper, and crawl around everywhere.

He held her body close to his and enjoyed the warmth and softness of her. The baby cooed, grabbing Dean's large finger and tugging on it happily. Slowly, she nuzzled and drifted to sleep on his forearm. He watched as he slept, kicking her legs as if he was having some wonderful, adventurous dream. How beautiful she was. The most beautiful child Dean had ever seen. He gently stroked her tummy and a tear formed in his eye.

Suddenly, Dean knew what John meant about feeling so small next to the largest gift in the universe that was no bigger than a sack of flour. This wiggling thing contained all the hope he could muster, wondering if one day he would have one of his own. Would he be a good father? Could he do better than the lineage in his veins? How could he be with the evil running in his blood, knowing what his real father was?

"What are you doing with my BABY?" A woman screamed.

"Angela, he's probably with child welfare. You know…"

"No, we can't… we can't…"

"We can't even afford to pay our rent and the car… How can we provide…."

"SCOTT!" Then the woman cried and busted out of the door.

The man turned to Dean apologetically. "Sorry about Angela. She is taking this harder than I thought. Not doing that great myself."

"You're giving her up?"

Scott stumbled. "Yeah……we…..we……We really want her, but her family kicked us out and we have…"

"DO YOU want her?" Dean asked pointedly with a bit of anger.

"GOD, Yes…she's…she's…."

"Perfect." Dean completed.

"Yeah…" Scott softened. "I just can't give her what she needs… We are two months late on rent, the car needs a new engine and I can't work if I don't fix it and that means the landlord will kick us out and...and...and... and I can't bear for them to take her after all that…." He rambled with emotion.

"Then you have everything she needs. You love her."

"But, I don't know what to do!"

"Hold her….you'll figure it out." Dean shifted the sleeping baby to her father and smiled. When Scott took a breath and held his daughter, it seemed as if the worries melted away. "Here…" Dean offered, digging out his world record pool hustling funds. His face was a mixture of emotions.

"What… I can't … I don't understand…"

"I really don't either. " Dean admitted "Just take it and take care of her."

"I can't repay you."

"Nope… not asking…just make sure she knows she is loved…okay." Dean shoved the money inside the man's tucked arm, knowing he would have to let go of the baby to refuse the cash. "Hey, what's her name?"

"Amelia."

Dean softly whipped the soft hair strands in his fingers and smiled. "Goodbye, Amelia."

That's my brother! Sam thought. That's why I always looked up to him. Sam smiled despite a tear rolling out of his eye. At the moment he knew Dean was hurting, but the big brother he always knew would never change. Dean would always be there for others regardless of the cost to himself. That was who Sam loved and who Sam feared was lost by the news of his mother's rape. But, it was as strong as ever, now Sam wanted to find a way for Dean to know that too. "Leave him be." Echoed in his ear again. So Sam pulled back, letting his brother exit without being seen. For the moment, he would allow some room, but he couldn't promise for how long.

-xx-xx-x-xx-xx-x-x-x-x-xx-x-xx-x-x

* * *

**The next day…..**

The Impala grumbled up the access road until Sam stopped in front of the storage unit. Surprise took Bobby and Sam and they wanted to ask Dean why he wanted to come here. He just piped the order from the backseat without explanation. No explanation came on the drive here and none was offered now. Instead, Dean spoke first. "Stay here. I'll be back." Dean didn't wait for a response, but rushed out.

"Give him time, kiddo. He needs to work this out."

"Do you think it's okay?"

"No, but I don't think the world has been okay since about …hell, it's never been okay. Let's just wait and see."

-x-x-xx-x-x-x-xx

When Dean slid open the door to his father's- pseudo father's he corrected- storage space, he clutched his jacket a little closer to his body. A look of abject fear on his face, he stepped inside. He had to verify that John wasn't in that tomb. As much as he hoped for it to be true, he feared finding only emptiness.

After a few moments of rummaging, he saw a sight that made his little heart quicken. Dean found his box. It was tattered, just a makeshift drawing on a cardboard box. Yet, it was the tribute of a four year old, who wanted a garage like his Dad's. It was obvious John helped him cut the holes for cars and write the word garage on it, but the art work was definite Dean. He unfolded the flaps and inside he found only a single item- a hard bound book.

The outside was engraved with a quote in gold: "It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of the deed could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust, sweat, and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again... because there is no effort without error and shortcoming. It is the man who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasm; the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement... and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. -Teddy Roosevelt"

Secretly, he hoped it was a journal on demons, but when he opened it, he found something far more precious. Spilling on the pages were entries in his father's hand, which began the day he left Dean and the events that unfolded after John's time in Jericho-not about demons and omens, but about Sam and about him. He turned the pages of countless entries. Some just lines about how much he missed Dean or why he and Sam didn't get along. Other notes were verbose about things his father would never admit out loud.

His fingers drifted through the dates without thought, already searching to see if his father came to Lawrence and to the faith healer too. Did John really lead him to where he could be healed? His heart clutched and twisted. Then he found the notes. It was all true. Everything that he was told in that tomb was true. His father had come to him when he needed him. He shook with emotion and a tear streamed down his face, which quickly got wiped away.

Flipping through the countless notes, he stopped on the day that he and Sam had faced Meg and her shadow demons, letting his eyes take him to the embrace of his father's love.

* * *

_Saw my boys today. At first I had no intentions to let them know I was there, but I had to be close to them even if it was only for a minute. As I climbed my way up the fire escape, I told myself I would see that they were well equipped and see that they were being careful, but it was a lie. I wanted to see them so badly, even being where they were an hour ago seemed like a luxury. I knew it would take them a while to clean up after that demon. I had trained them well enough for that. So, I just sank in a chair, staring at the empty beds like I do every night without them. _

_It's not fair I have to keep them so far from me. This damn demon would kill them in a heartbeat and it knows I'm close. I can't risk them. I can't watch them die like my Mary._

_Time slipped from me as I stared at the beds. One-messed up and unmade- had to be Dean's. The other neat and squared away- Sam's. I haven't seen a bed like that since he left. I could almost see them in that place, arguing about something trivial that would drive me crazy. I'd give anything to hear an argument about who gets the decoder ring in the box of cereal._

_Before I know it, I hear a growl of sweet music to me. I listened so closely at the rumble of the Impala's engine gearing down and I spun around to glare out the open window. The car was nosing its way out onto the street already. Two heads in the front- my boys. I knew I should leave- just run, but I froze. My gut turned spiky and cold. I stood there waiting, hoping. God knows I didn't want it to happen. I should have gone, but I wasn't sure if I was more afraid of the demon finding them or the boys not loving me and turning me away._

_I had left Dean. Period. Nothing to say about it. I left the boy who would follow me out of love to any hellhole. How could I make amends for that? Then, Sam. I was never there and have no thoughts on how to repair that damage. This was hardly the way I wanted it to happen. Things were not going to happen the way I ever wanted them to._

_Maybe I should have told Sam I was proud of him for standing his ground and doing what he wants. Maybe I should have told Dean I was proud of him for being there for us. Maybe I should have just told them I loved them, then maybe I would be able to live with myself. Maybe I could sleep without staring at empty beds that should hold my boys._

_I know kids grow up and leave home. Some parents were probably pretty happy about it, but most parents don't worry about their kids getting cut open and set on fire. How good of an excuse it that! Hey boys, I'm scared! Just this deep bone dread that if I slip up my boys will die alone in so much pain they couldn't even begin to scream before they were gone. And what if the damn yellow comes back to finish off Sam? How do I tell those boys I am a coward that can't put them near this damn thing? _

_When I saw them open the door, I expected Sam to yell at me. Expected Dean to be so pissed he'd punched me. And as he approached, I thought he might. He didn't. Just threw his arms around me. His posture screamed of relief that I was okay. He shook in my arms. Not _

_noticeable to Sam, but I could feel the raw emotion pouring from him. He'll never know how much I needed that reassurance. I could only throw my arms around him and silently promise I would one day make this better. _

_Haven't felt him shake like that since the nightmares he had after Mary died. I hated feeling so weak feeling my boy tremble violently against me, re-living God only knows what. Watching Dean cope with everything at such a young age had been hard. Watching the anguish of one lost child. He is still my little boy. The kid who wanted us to love him and give him a home. In some ways, maybe he will always be a boy looking for a home and someone to love him. One day I will tell him he always had our love and always will._

_Then there's Sam. I waited for Sam to fling bitterness at me. He didn't either. He looked half scared, half relieved. Could I possibly get my boy back? Has the time together with Dean made them love each other again? If it does, than this would all be worth it. I don't even care if we disagree as long as I can be part of his life. But not right now. How can I tell him I need to shut him out because I would die without knowing they were safety?_

_The night he left, we argued about Dean. Sure, school was a big issue, but he rightfully threw my actions in my face. He hated that Dean was totally different when I made him a soldier. He would change when I wasn't around. His brother was lost behind this façade of the perfect soldier, while the fun, carefree kid vanished so easily. Sam wanted the innocence of their childhood back, but I couldn't give that back._

_When I looked at Dean today, I could sense a quiet pleading. He looks at me, begging for us to be a family. It more than broke my heart. He so wants us not to fight. Looking at him I find words to test those waters with Sam. For once there is no hateful word or fight. Sam was in my arms a second later. Damn it. It was the best gift I could ever ask for. My boys, who could hate me for many reasons, still want me for a father. That perhaps is the greatest mystery. _

_Things turned bad after that. Damn demons always trickier than you think. Leaving them again was harder. They were torn up and beaten, but not broken. I almost threw them both in the car and took off. I wanted to do that so badly to make sure they were patched up and healing, but Dean knew what I needed to hear. Dean always had my back even when I was completely wrong. And I know this is wrong, but I can't see how to fix this. How do you explain a demon needs all your focus?_

_I waited for them to drive away, but I didn't let them know it. I called to them, knowing they were too far away to protest or hear me, but I needed it so bad. Saying that I loved them would give me strength to go on until one day I can stand alongside of them and make amends for my countless sins. Is my love enough? I hope it will one day be all I need to heal the scars in my two boys. How I ever had two children that grew up to be those fine men is beyond me. I know I have very little to do with it, but they make me so proud._

_As I write this, I keep looking at two empty beds in front of me. I can't bear to get a single bed motel room just to make sure I always have a place for them. Just guess I always want to make sure my boys have a place whether they are with me or not. Maybe one day, I'll look out and _

_find them both resting safely in my keeping again. Maybe one day, they will be able to forgive me for all that I have done._

* * *

Dean almost smiled, his laugh line dimples appeared before retreating. His mind and heart wrestled between basking in John's words and being stabbed by them as a million different emotions and expressions painted his face. Tears streamed wetness down his cheek and neck as he finally gave into the turmoil inside of him.

* * *

For the longest time, Sam waited, wondering what could be so important in this place. Knowing his brother's pain was so acute was more than enough reason to burn this storage unit to the ground. Whatever the reason for Dean being in his life, no matter if it came from violence or even demonic intentions, Sam was glad. So, as much as he hated what happened to his mother, he couldn't help but feel blessed to have his brother. "I'm going after him."

"Let me. I'd rather he punch me than risk you two going at it. You need each other."

"I can't ask you…"

"Who's askin'?" Bobby stepped out. Briskly, Bobby walked as if getting to Dean was the most urgent mission he had ever untaken. When he reached the open door of the storage unit, sight froze his body to stone. There before his eyes the strongest person Bobby knew cried silently, breaths pushing out harshly and betraying his bottled up inner walls.

Facing away from the door, Dean crumpled on the floor. He was quiet, but the rise of fall of his shoulders foretold the emotional turmoil within him. Shortly, he said one word in a craggy tone. "Dad." Then, he took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself and hide the evidence of this moment. Too much over the past year defeated that attempt as he began to suck in tangle hard breaths.

He heard a cough and when he witnessed a horrific expression on Bobby's face, he crumbled. And there is was. Bobby sprinted to the man before him, who still held the gentle heart of a child he once knew. He didn't speak, but threw his arms around Dean. For the longest time he held Dean to him, letting Dean's breath even out with tears so long overdue. He had held this in for so long and needed reassurances. Now, he understood why Dean asked wanted to do this alone.

Even years after the fact, when Bobby first met up with the Winchesters their pain and devastation was still apparent, like a festering hole had been blasted through their guts. The cesspool inside slowly seeped out mixing with all their pain and grief. He gripped Dean's head stronger as he soothingly tapped the back of the boy's head.

Dean felt empty as he sat frozen, closing his eyes. He was unable to fight it anymore and broke down in a silently tears. The emotions he had bottled up sizzled until they exploded now. The memories race over and over in his mind. He didn't know how much time passed as he squat there. He breathed deeply for a few moments before I he tried to pull away from Bobby.

Momentarily, he noticed Dean regaining composure. Bobby loosened his grip and backed away an inch giving Dean the message he would only let go when Dean was ready. Shortly, the young man pulled away wiping his eyes quickly and brutally on his sleeve. His chest heaved from his strained breathing, his bottom lip quivered, but his jaw jutted out firm and strong. He was trying to put forth a brave front and he took a moment to process everything and get his emotions under control.

Outside, he heard the throaty growl of the Impala like sweet music to his ears. Bobby and Sam were here for him. All the family he had left didn't give up on him. And in a way, neither had the father he had known all his life. For that one moment Dean felt more important than he ever had.

He felt guilty for the thoughts he had had about his family while he had been drowning his emotions. "I'm sorry…." Dean had been emotionally disturbed by the news of his lineage and it left him unstable and alone. It felt like John had abandoned him all over again and took off on some plan that didn't consider how he would feel. But, he was never alone. All this time, John was with him, just like Bobby and Sam. He still wasn't ready to deal with it all, but he did have one spark of hope still left inside of him. He stood and Bobby followed suit.

"It's okay. You more than anyone have the right." Bobby comforted.

In short order, Dean turned, exited the building, said nothing, and got into the backseat of the car, leaving Bobby to follow. When Bobby reached the car, Dean had sprawled in the back; a book grappled in hands and had an appearance of not wanting to talk about anything.

"Dean, are you going to talk to me now?" Sam asked quietly.

"No."

Bobby glanced at Sam with a look that says he may still need some time as he jumped in and shut the door.

"You know I will annoy you until you do. Fine art of aggravation…"

"Sam…" He breathed deeply, holding back. His voice became measured and soft. "Sam, I'm asking you this once to please leave it be. I won't ask you ever again. But, I need time for myself. Just leave this one be… just this once." Dean flinched and turned his head so his brother couldn't fully see the emotion playing on his face. "I need this, then we can do whatever you want." Later he would tell them about John and the tomb, but everything was so raw at the moment.

Acquiescing, Sam swallowed hard. "I…. I'm here if you need me."

"I know." Dean said quietly. "Thanks Sam...Bobby..."

His eyes filled with sincerity and love "Anytime bro… anytime you need me. No matter what it is or what's between us- I will be there." Sam promised he would tell Dean everything that happened when he looked for him. How for one time Sam and his Dad had worked together on 

one important thing- finding Dean. When Dean was ready Sam would tell him John came to save him and then maybe part of Dean would heal.

"This isn't a one sided thing. Me too." Dean stretched out more.

"Make that a hat-trick." Bobby added, thinking once Dean knew about John leading them to that tomb the boy would open up about things later. There was plenty to work out, but for now they would give Dean the space he asked for.

Turning over the engine, Sam bore his gaze on Bobby and whispered. "Is he okay?"

"He will be…. We'll make sure of it." Bobby promised, whispering back.

Dean curled into himself, holding the book to him. He mouthed a few words to himself. "Thanks, Dad." Then he looked out the window, watching the scenery pass by as Sam pulled away.

* * *

**-THE END-**

* * *

_**Author's note: The final chapter. I'm always sad to see these stories end, but thanks for reading to all of you and I hope you enjoyed the last of the emotional rollercoaster. This story dedicated to Dean (even though he is in hell). Since I work in hell, yeah my office really sucks and is hell. I will keep him safe until next season! On the high side, tourism in hell is way up since he arrived! Book your tour now and 666-666-6669. **_

_**-xx-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x**_


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